Eye of the Ice Dragon
by Elarin
Summary: Elrond and Glorfindel find a strange thing in Ered Mithrin and begin to unravel a mystery Gandalf had pondered on for many years... Ch 14 up! some revelations on Telperiel's part...
1. Treasure in the Ice

Eye of the Ice Dragon

by Elarin

_description: _Elrond and Glorfindel are heading to Mirkwood with an urgent letter from Thranduil. Instead of taking the easy way there they both decide to go the sanctuary of the Silvan Elves by way of the north for the purpose of scouting the land. During their journey they find a strange thing among the frozen mountains and barren forests, a thing of lost in the currents of time into tales unknown. If you're an Elrond fan you should like this story.

_setting: _changed my mind (actually I bothered to reference the book) we're in the third age.

*

Chapter 1 | Treasure in the Ice

Ered Mithrin, the Grey Mountains, in common tongue was a realm of cold winds and icy snow storms amid the frozen wrath of winter. If the matter of visiting Thranduil were not so urgent Elrond, as well as Glorfindel, would have rather waited until the spring to make the journey to Mirkwood. Indeed it would have been easier to simply cross the Misty Mountains and the Anduin to the east of Imladris and enter Mirkwood through there but Elrond had been slightly concerned about rumours of packs of orcs and goblins making their way toward Eriador through the North and Elrond much wanted to see for himself what lied in the north. Even so, he and Glorfindel dared not pass through the old realm of the Witch King, instead they crossed the northern banks of the river Mitheithel and cross the northern range of the Misty Mountains and passed through the land past the river Langwell and up across the river Greylin.

They travelled light, carrying a repertoire of arrows, their bows, their swords and a good bag of some food. Their cloaks protecting them from the ragin and stinging ice of the cold, even though the two elves were quite resistant to the weather it was easy to grow weary of it. 

But one thought kept them going: It would be only a few more days before they found the source of the Forest River and from there head south into Mirkwood toward Thranduil's domain.

But the heavy snow seemed to hinder their journey.

_"Ai!" _cried Glorfindel and mild complaint though a smile touched his lips, "I believe, my Lord Elrond, that we shall have to stop a while, for I doubt that this storm will calm its fury itself any time soon!" Elrond looked about from the shadow of his hood his eyes squinting past the heavy snow and whipping winds. 

"Something wicked is in the wind," Elrond said above the howling wind pulling the hood of his cloak closer to him, "I know not what it is, but it troubles me."

"That I feel as well," Glorfindel said, "Strange that the wargs (werewolves) have come so far northward, we only killed that last pack a few days ago and yet after seeing the carrion of dead creatures and pulled down trees, more have left their mark and I would not doubt that there would be more danger here."

"Sauron must have sent them here." Elrond said and glanced down at his ring, Vilya, its blue stone glowing with a faint hue. He silently wondered if Sauron was beginning to catch on to the location of three elven rings. No. Elrond thought. Not yet. Though he wouldn't doubt that the Red Eye seeked Imladris and had sent spies to find it. 

Elrond and Glorfindel had travelled swift in one week and had overcome a few stray orcs and some trolls. But the wargs seemed to come into these lands with purpose, and they travelled together, great dark wolves with eyes red as blood. The two elves had managed to hunt and kill a few of them, from Thranduil's letters Elrond learned that they had been invading Mirkwood as of late, and travelling north, to where he did not know, but Elrond now knew they were heading to Eriador.

He sighed deeply seeing indeed that the storm would not cease.

"Perhaps you're right, but in these winds, Glorfindel, we shall not be able to pitch tents." Elrond said recalling the times of battle when they indeed had tents to rest in and to tell tales and laugh among comrades even when times were dark. Glorfindel grinned.

"Neither do we have tents to pitch." He said. "Then we shall have to find a cave." Elrond frowned at him.

"Most likely we shall have to fight for one, for I doubt that the caves here are empty."

Glorfindel sighed his blue eyes focusing on his friend's silver ones, "Would you rather sleep out under here?"

In reply, Elrond drew an arrow from his quiver.

*

They had discovered a cave not far from where they'd been. To their mild surprise they had found it empty, at least at its mouth, and not sign that anyone had been there. Glorfindel and Elrond walked into it, through its narrow halls of stalacites its mouth embellished like a great jaw of icicles. But as they walked deeper lightly and gracefully past frozen meres of water a swift movement from above had caught the attention of both elves and they had drawn their weapons. But whatever shadow above the frozen paths had moved it had just as quickly vanished.

"As I suspected, this cave in not unoccupied." Elrond told Glorfindel. Glorfindel raised a white golden brow glancing around and above cautiously.

"Like a wraith," he commented mostly to himself, "And yet, I don't think the thing is a threat." Elrond tended to trust his friend's judgement for the most part but the song of the wind outside led him to have some other suspicions.

"Perhaps, but it would be best if we still practiced caution." Elrond told him.

"Agreed," said Glorfindel as he found a spot nearby and unloaded the tied roll of kindling he had brought with him, "Let us build a fire and eat. We are a day's journey ahead and at this rate we should arrive to Thranduil's invitation earlier than most of his other guests." He said. Elrond sat by him dropping his things by a nearby rock and upon the frost covered ground they began to build a fire.

But even so, Elrond found himself glancing behind his shoulder from time to time for the utter silence within the cave made him wary.

*

Two hours had passed and the two elven lords had been discussing things of old memory and more recent threats. Glorfindel sighed deeply as they entered the discussion of Thranduil's turmoil, the reason they had been called. The shadow grew stronger by the day in Thranduil's realm and they had begun attacking in greater force. Thranduil had called a council inviting elven representatives from Lothlorien, Mithlond, and Imladris. Elrond, himself, did not necessarily have to be present, he could have sent Glorfindel alone in his stead but Elrond wanted to visit Thranduil for it had been long since he had visited what was once the Greenwood which was now overcome by shadow and heavy mist. 

-_Nwehannar…lye…_- a lady's voice echoed in a ghostly hymn through the cave and both Glorfindel and Elrond were silenced and stood up. –…_unandirye alarima_…-

It was not any form of elven speech that they knew of yet the voice sang it as if it were and the sounds were beautiful echoing through the walls.

"What is that?" Elrond whispered past the echoing voice.

"I know not. But perhaps we should go see?" Glorfindel suggested clutching his bow in some suspicion.

"Yes, let us." Elrond agreed in a whisper.

 –_eya… calanweyi onanremin…anun elenye…- _the voice sang in a speech unknown and they followed it. The melody seemed mournfull and yet like a prayer it echoed through the natural halls of stone and ice. Glorfindel and Elrond passed silently through a narrow halls, and found it amazing that they could still see for upon the walls there was a silver glow, and to their surprise they had found a source of mithril.

"Amazing that the dwarves did not find this." Elrond said quietly. 

"Agreed, but yet another puzzle lies here." Glorfindel whispered.

-_eya… nuncalan wenthil… nuncalan twilyen…- _the voice sang in a mystifying phrase that both elves understood not the words.

"And what is that?" Elrond asked Glorfindel though his ears were still following the song.

"The dwarves once dwelt in this region," Glorfindel said softly, "and this cave is not at all hidden yet no mark of chisel nor pike is found within here, no rune nor tool. The dwarves seek mithril, there is a trove of it within here yet they have not touched it."

-_mairquentiluen… ustane unerilye…- _

Elrond silently wondered upon the fact Glorfindel stated. Finally they came out of the narrow hall into a clearing where the mithril reflected like moonlight upon another frozen mere and upon it was a small form clad in dark grey and ragged robes, her disheveled hair long and dark and her eyes the the silver of the mithril tinged with the icy blue of the frozen meres. Abruptly, she stopped her song sensing the elves there and stood up letting out an exclamation of surprise. Elrond immediately noticed the wound upon her left leg and it was still bleeding. 

Both elves realized this was a mortal girl.

"Do not be afraid." Elrond stated in clear common tongue, "We shall not hurt you." 

Her eyes turned to the source of his voice, still filled with bewilderment and fear. Glorfindel studied her. Her eyes seemed not to focus on them, they seemed not to focus at all.

"She is blind." Glorfindel told Elrond. The dark haired elf lord frowned, the thought upsetting him. 

Elrond leaped down from the stony rampart from whence they came. The girl stumbled back upon the ice as if sensing his approach though Elrond had moved silently.

"Do you understand me?" Elrond said softly in common tongue.

Her confused expression did not change and she only trembled, Elrond sensed her fear and glanced down at her wound, it had been done by an orcish blade, that much he could tell.

_"Mannalye telperiel?"* _Elrond asked her gently in old Quenya for the words of her song alomost resembled that tongue even though it was neither Sindaren nor Quenya. She seemed to stop trembling, whether from cold or fear, hearing his voice speak in the old tongue. Elrond exchanged a glance with Glorfindel who stood afar watching with interest. (*AN: translation is as follows "Who are you, silver woman?").

Elrond approached her with caution, fearing she would flee, but she did not move but her blind eyes blinking twice at him thought she could not see.

-_atarie…? nunerya larandwe?- _she asked cautiously. Elrond wrinkled his brow in question.

"I do not understand you, Telperiel." He said in Quenya and placed his cloak around her shoulders, "But we must take care of your wound." She tilted her head at him a curious expression upon her face. Elrond decided to try to pick her up and to his pleasant surprise she did not fight him but looked about her as if listening for something they could not hear.

"She does not understand common tongue." He told Glorfindel in his usual Sindaren, the switch of tongue went by the mortal girl unnoticed.

"She must have been abandoned here." Glorfindel replied as they maid their way back torward the campfire. She whispred things quietly in her unintelligible tongue which neither of the elves understood, "Perhaps an orphan." Glorfindel looked at the girl in Elrond's arms as they passed the narrow mithril halls and finally saw the golden glow of their fire, "She is naught but fourteen mortal years of age if my insight to mortal years serves me correctly." She looked curiously toward Glorfindel.

-_mannalye?- _she asked mimicking Elrond's earlier question. Elrond put her down against one of the smoother walls and both elves looked at her intrigued.

_"Nanye Glorfindel, Telperiel." _Glorfindel replied slowly wondering if she understood.

-_Glorfindel- she repeated thoughtfully. Elrond raised an eyebrow._

"Curious." He said to Glorfindel in Sindaren.

"Indeed." Glorfindel agreed.

"Do you suppose she understands us?" Elrond asked him kneeling down to tend to her wound. She jerked her leg away for a moment with a yelp and Elrond whispered soothing words in Quenya and she stopped fighting him. 

"Well," Glorfindel began, "There is yet another puzzle here." He sat down next to the one they now called Telperiel, and looked to Elrond thoughtfully, "She is blind and small and the wounds are recent and that of an orc's how do you suppose she escaped alive?"

Elrond looked up to her blind silver eyes.

"I have not an answer, but I do not intend to leave her here."

*

AN:  well, there's the beginning. I pray you'll like the rest of it  ^_^


	2. The Words We Speak

Eye of the Ice Dragon

by Elarin

rated NC-17 for flashbacks of rape, torture, and cruelty by evil and dark things in future chapters (so the Story Faerie has passed her doom upon the OC).

*

Chapter 2 | The Words We Speak

When the storm had faded away to a calm clear blue sky. Glorfindel, Elrond, and their new-found companion whom they named Telperiel, stepped out of the cave. Glorfindel had given her an extra tunic to wear and the girl was a humorous sight to look at wearing a man's tunic two sizes too large for her and her dissheveled hair tied back with a  leather band Elrond had. They were still concerned for she had no boots and in walking she refused to wear Elrond's cloak, but she followed them nonetheless still looking at them curiously.

Ice glittered upon the trees like white jewels cast upon them as embellishment. The snow on the forest floor glowed white and the wind had calmed to a light cool breeze from the west as if a blessing. They trecked toward the east seeking the hidden Forest River that would lead them into Mirkwood. Blind as she was she seemed to know her way and where to step even as Elrond helped lead her. 

She seemed to walk easily in the snow and for the most part she was silent as they travelled and seemed not to tire easily as if some strange endurance had grown in her from living out in the wild for so long. It seemed as if her feet did not numb from the snow nor her wounded leg drew her down and she kept up with the two elves as they headed toward the forest river. As they walked they stopped to drink from a mountain stream and Telperiel looked up at the sky squinting her silver blue eyes at the sun. Elrond smiled at the girl.

"What do you see, Telperiel?" He asked her in Quenya, even though she was blind. She pointed up to the sun with a smirk.

-_alarima- _she told him. Elrond looked up. Perhaps, he thought, she could see shapes and brightness and was not totally blind.

_"Anor." _he told her. Her smile grew and she blindly reached for a tree nearby her and turned her blind sight to it.

-_catanye_- 

_"Galadh." _Glorfindel said exchanging a glance with Elrond. Could they learn her tongue? Or perhaps she could learn theirs. She stood up walking toward the stream, following the sound of trickling water and she placed her hands toward the water.

-_laranenye_- she said.

_"Nen." _Elrond told her. She fell to her knees and reached down to the snow, laughter in her voice.

-_corfalas_-

_"Loss."_ Glorfindel said.

They spent their journey in this way and as evening came they had learned many words in her tongue and she had learned many in theirs. Unfortunately, due to her blindness she could only speak the words of what she felt not what she saw. Elrond winced at the thought of not being able to see, not the stars nor the trees, nor the beauty of what was around them. But it seemed that Telperiel made up for her sight for her sense of hearing seemed to be just as keen as their own. 

Sometimes she would hum some song amid the silence. Sometimes she would look around her questioningly even though she could not see. Elrond led her through the knots and trails of the forests although it seemed she already knew where she stepped. 

After the sun had set low and the stars began to shine like faded embers upon a darkening sky, they stopped for a moment as they neared the river to listen cautiously for anyone that would be following them or seeking the entrance into Thranduil's domain. Although it was guarded the two elves were still cautious. 

"Ah! The stars shine brightly this night." Glorfindel said looking up. Elrond smiled at the other.

"Indeed they do." Telperiel's brow knitted in puzzlement.

-_eleni?_- she asked hearing Glorfindel utter the word 'stars' for it was a strange word to her. Elrond looked at her and both elves felt a pang of sadness and regret at her blindness.

"They are like the sun, Telperiel, but smaller and more beautiful." Elrond told her in his own tongue. She still seemed confused.

She then reached out for Glorfindel and her hands went up upon his face feeling for an identity.

-_Glorfindel_- she said with a smile. Elrond grinned looking at the bemused look on his friend. She then turned her hands toward Elrond's face and quietly said.

-_Vanarie_-

"And what does that mean, Telperiel?" Elrond asked her taking the girl's small hands into his looking at her pale face intently. 'She needs food,' he thought, 'and better garments.'

-_Vanarie- _she said with a small smile.

*

After another hour of walking in silence they had finally reached the river and three golden haired elves had been waiting for them, with  two boats. One of them Glorfindel immediately recognized. Clad in green garb and a grey woven cloak was the son of Thranduil. "Legolas! How fares your father's wood?" Glorfindel greeted him. Legolas, prince of Mirkwood smiled at the elder elf and bowed toward Elrond. "I would like to say 'well,' my lords, but I fear a great ill has awakened that we may not speak of here." Legolas told him gravely, "Though we are much honored that you have come!" He managed a smile then his gaze turned to the girl who was being led by Elrond. "If I may ask, my lords, who is this mortal child you bring with you?" The two elves exchanged brief glances.

"We call her Telperiel, we do not know her name, we found her in a cave in Ered Mithrin." Elrond said careful not to mention the mithril knowing Thranduil's whim for mining.

"She is blind," Glorfindel added, "And she speaks a tongue that we do not know of." Legolas raised an eyebrow as his two men pulled the boats in.

"If she is your ward then she is welcome, though I cannot say what my father will think of it." 

Elrond laughed easily.

"Fear not, Legolas," Elrond told him, "For Thranduil's irritation with a mortal entering his realms will soon turn to idle teasing when he sees that it is Glorfindel and I with her." Legolas smiled but his look was still dubious.

"If you say so, my lord." Legolas told him as they loaded the boats. Telperiel seemed slightly hesistant realizing she had stepped into water but Elrond gently chided her and she finally came aboard but stayed close to the two she had come to know. Elrond covered the girl with his cloak once more and the three elven vessels began to drift down toward Mirkwood. 

"You found her in a cave?" Legolas asked after a while.

-_mennalye?_- She asked hearing the other elf's voice. 

"Legolas." Glorfindel told her.

-_Legolas?_- She asked turning toward the other in question. 

"Does she understand Sindaren?" Legolas asked them bewildered. There were few among men who understood the elvish tongue.

"That is a puzzle to us, _mellon._" Glorfindel told the other, "We are not sure whether she does or she does not for her tongue almost sounds as ours does but yet it is not our tongue at all."

"Neither do we know where she comes from." Elrond added looking at her. 

-_aiglos_- she said softly as if in respose to his comment. Now the three elves looked at her as she spoke a word in Sindaren they had not taught her. 

"Ice?" Legolas asked, "She comes from the ice?"

Elrond looked at the mortal girl covered in his large heavy cloak clearly puzzled. 

*

Gandalf peered out of one of the many balconies that potruded to the outside forest from Thranduil's cave. He idly puffed on his pipe his dark eyes looking over the Forest River from under the shadow of his hat. 'Why do I sense something familiar yet strange?' the old Istari glanced up at the stars above twinkling past the woven trees and the growing crescent moon. Many of the elves had retired to sleep and some of the guards were changing upon their watch. Gandalf was here because he had sensed the shadow growing in Mirkwood and he knew that Thranduil was seeking his aid but did not know where to find him. Of course Gandalf was infamous for his unexpected visits, expecially in times he was most needed. The shadow of Dol Guldur had not been lifted, on the contrary, the dark power only grew acting as a medium from its source of darkness in Mordor.

A movement in the river caught his eyes bringing his thoughts back to where he was. Legolas had returned, it seemed, along with the guests from Rivendell. Gandalf smiled looking down seeing Elrond and Glorfindel among them. Thranduil, dressed in his robes of dark greens and embroidered gold greeted them warmly but the elf king's gaze became curious toward the guest that Elrond brought with them it seemd.

Gandalf squinted, turning his gaze toward the elf king's focus. A young mortal girl clad in Elrond's heavy cloak with no shoes and a treated wound done by the elf lord's hand. Her hair was long and in dissarray and she seemed bewildered with the voices around her. Suddenly the echo of a dark memory went through his mind's eye and Gandalf saw the Witch King of Angmar place his ring given to him by Sauron upon his finger.

_ni ghash angul thraka-Lugburz ishi ghasha-hai!… agh burzum-ishi krimpatul…!_

Gandalf shook the feeling away from him dropping his pipe with a thud upon the floor. He stared back down at the pale faced girl whom Elrond led with him as they entered Thranduil's Halls. 

The old wizard picked up his pipe and the feeling of an ill portent passing through him. He had not a clue where Elrond found this child, but he did have a silent idea of whence she came, and the thought troubled him.

*

 "Always taking in mortal wards aren't you, Lord Elrond?" Thranduil asked him in good humor but his look turned serious, "And how fares Gilraean, and Estel?" He added in question. They walked into the halls, it was naught like dwarf halls, for vines and night blooming flowers glowed white and upon every wall there were fair carvings and tapestries of old stories and songs. Other elves were about, many of them minding their duties or talking softly to one another.

"They are well," Elrond said, "Estel is quickly beginning to gain elvish features from Elladan and Elrohir."

"I would not doubt that he admires them much." Thranduil smiled, a few younger elvish servants came toward them carrying clothing. "Alas! We shall speak more after, I would have you wash up and change into something more comfortable." Elrond glanced worriedly at Telperiel whom he led along. 

"Fear not, my lord," said a young elvish lady who stood by him, "I will lead her and help her bathe and change into this gown." Elrond placed Telperiel's hand into the servant's whose name was Lyra. 

"Go with her, Telperiel." Elrond told her soothingly, "I shall see you later."

But worry crossed her features and she turned to blindly clutch to Elrond.

-_nariye ona anirim, Vanarie_- She said to Elrond with some fear.

"I doubt she will leave us now." Glorfindel said.

"What tongue is that?" Thranduil asked them curiously raising an eyebrow.

"We do not know." Glorfindel told him as Elrond seeked to soothe the mortal girl who did not want to leave them.

"You have the tendency to find the strangest of things." Thranduil told him but not in insult nor in jest. Legolas watched some good humor in his gaze as Elrond finally managed to tear her away from him and finally into Lyra's hands.

_"Noro! Noro!" _Elrond said laughingly with a smile. It seemed that hearing laughter calmed her and she finally took leave with the elven maid.

"Indeed," said a voice from behind them. They turned to see Mithrandir clad in his usual grey robes and hat and clutching his twisted staff upon his left hand, "You did find a strange thing."

"Have you an answer to our puzzle, Mithrandir?" asked Glorfindel with a smile.

"No and yes." He replied earning a questioning look from all four of the elves. Gandalf smiled at them.

"Lord Thranduil is right though, go and change, rest up a while then we shall discuss all these things! For you have found a strange thing that even I myself would know not of though I suppose to every question there is an answer."

*

"You are pretty for a mortal girl." Lyra said to the girl in a friendly tone as she dried her hair. She had silver blue eyes and pale skin from being too long within a cave. Lyra frowned after she had discarded the girl's old rags. She was much too skinny. 'Ah, well, nothing a good meal cannot fix.' Lyra thought. She was growing fond of her. The little girl was but a bud, in the prime of adolescence in mortal years yet acted with the curiousity of an elvish child. 'It is a terrible pity that she is blind,' Lyra thought but began to learn that the girl found comfort in voices so she did not waste too much time on her thoughts.

"I have found a gown your size," Lyra said with light heartedness in her voice, "It is white and embroidered with silver flowers, and has a silken robe to go over it and I also have a pair of slippers of grey velvet woven in Lothlorien."

-_Lothlorien_- the girl repeated quietly in a dreamy tone as if she liked the word a lot. –_Lothlorien_-

Lyra smiled and began singing a song to her as she combed through her long dark hair, a song she had sang to her sisters when they had been small in elven years.

_…and the flowers bloom like silver stars and golden hue upon the fields of Cerin Amroth, where breezes sing by glimmer'ng dew upon the early morn, and through the halls of the woven forests of glowing grey mallorn there lives a lady fair, light lies within her sky blue eyes and white golden is her hair…_

The elven maid was satisfied to see the mortal girl smiling at the calming song.

"Hmm… I shall have to braid your hair."

-_mannalye?_- asked the mortal to the elf maid. Lyra raised an eyebrow.

"Lyra." she replied. 'Perhaps she learned some Sindaren from the two elf lords.' Lyra decided.

-_Lyra_- the girl said quietly. Lyra laughed lightly at her puzzled expression and continued working with her hair.

*

Elrond had finished his bath and changed into the robes Thranduil offered him quicker than Glorfindel had. He wore a pair of dark blue robes and tied his forlocks back. He was worried about Telperiel, wondering if she had fleed from the elven maid. But as soon as he stepped out from his room it was Gandalf who was waiting for him.

"Where did you find her?" Gandalf asked the elf lord suddenly a dark seriousness in his eyes. Elrond quickly regained himself recovering from the surprise to seeing Gandalf there. 'More silent than elves he can be when he wants to.' Elrond thought inwardly.

"In Ered Mithrin, on our way here, within a cave."

"You left something untold to Thranduil, and I would hear it." Gandalf demanded, "I only mean well." He added.

Elrond sighed, "That I know. Glorfindel and I found a trove of mithril in that cave but it has not been touched by any dwarves."

"Was it a hidden cave?"

"I would not call it so, for we found it quite easily." Gandalf sighed.

"Walk with my a while, Lord Elrond, there is something strange about that girl."

"Indeed, she speaks a tongue not common for elves nor men, Mithrandir." Elrond told him as they walked toward the inner gardens of Thranduil's halls, "Do you know it?" Gandalf hissed a sigh.

"Alas! I do not but her presence troubles me." The other said quietly.

Elrond raised an eyebrow but his look was concerned, 

"And what trouble does she bring?"  
Gandalf only shook his head his gaze turning in yet looking afar.

*

AN: -sigh- my Story Faerie has evil things planned… I like it not… 


	3. Whispers of a Dark Past

Eye of the Ice Dragon

by Elarin

*

Chapter 3 | Whispers of a Dark Past

Glorfindel had left his room, wearing the grey robes he had been offered, and looked about knowing Elrond had gone to speak with Gandalf. 'Alas!' He thought, 'I suppose Elrond will send me tidings later.' He heard soft footsteps behind him and turned around to see Lyra leading Telperiel. "My lord," bowed Lyra with a smile. Glorfindel smiled, the young mortal girl looked like a petal from a fair _nimloth _(white flower)glittering with dew. Her hair was braided down in several long braids twined with silver and pearls. 

"A! Lyra, you have done a splendid job! I would have mistaken her for an elven maid had I not known better!" He told her. 

-_Glorfindel_- said Telperiel with a smile. Glorfindel hooked her arm into him.

"And greetings to you, once more, Telperiel." He told her. 'now,' he thought silently looking at the silver of her eyes and the gleaming gown she wore, 'she truly lives up to the name we have given her.'

-_unairya Vanarie, Glorfindel?_- even though Glorfindel did not know the words he understood the question.

"He is with a friend, Telperiel, speaking of some important matter." Glorfindel said. It wasn't a lie. Not exactly. He laughed lightly at the puzzlement of her expression. "He will be along, I promise." She then seemed satisfied with his answer.

'Does she understand me?' he wondered silently. He also pondered on how a girl of fourteen years had been abandoned in Ered Mithrin. A puzzle it was indeed! But Glorfindel would hold to patience, he had an eternity to learn the tale at any rate, and it seemed as if Mithrandir knew something they did not. Lyra left to her duties and Glorfindel led Telperiel outside to the garden balcony. Some elves that saw the pair walk by let out complimenting exclamations of awe at the girl's innocent beauty making her look about all at once surprised and curious by the soft voices about her. Glorfindel smiled inwardly. She seemed like a child indeed.

"It seems that you fit in here quite well, Telperiel." Glorfindel told her laughter in his voice. They stopped outside a balcony overlooking the gardens where Elrond and Mithrandir spoke below. Her blind eyes turned to Glorfindel and she squinted as if trying to see him. Glorfindel sighed and kissed her fondly on the forehead. "May the stars someday greet your sight, Telperiel." He said quietly feeling a deep pity for the small mortal girl. Telperiel looked around sensing the presences below. Elrond and Gandalf turned to look at them and Elrond managed a smile.

"How fares our silver _nimloth, _Glorfindel, for she appears yet the fairest child among mortals." Elrond said. She smiled hearing his voice

-_Vanarie!_- she exclaimed laughter in her voice. Glorfindel laughed.

"She is always pleased to see you, my lord." said he. Gandalf idly stroked his beard heading up toward the balcony behind Elrond. As soon as he neared close Telperiel jumped up and embraced Elrond. Glorfindel smiled.

"I suppose she sees you both as long lost fathers." Gandalf said as if some insight had reached him.

"Indeed," said Elrond stroking the girls hair, "I am already father to one mortal, I suppose a second should be no new thing."

"And Arwen would love her." Glorfindel said with a smile. "But if I may ask, Mithrandir do you know where this girl hails from?"

-_Mithrandir?_- she asked.

"Yes, my little _nimloth,_" said Elrond, "Mithrandir is a good friend of ours."

-_Mellon?_- She asked curiously.

"Yes." Glorfindel told her. "_Mellon._" He then turned to Mithrandir, "So, have you any knowledge of where she hails from?" Gandalf frowned momentarily.

"I believe I know, but I would not trouble you with my assumptions, until I am truly sure." Gandalf said. Elrond looked at him concerned.

"You still have not told me exactly what troubles you, Mithrandir, but I shall wait. But I see this child as no ill." said Elrond. Gandalf raised his hands up in defense.

"I never said the child was of any ill, Lord Elrond," the old wizard then laughed. "Indeed, she is young, and filled with life in her and she is cause of no harm. I do not fear that the child will cause anyone harm." He sighed deeply his expression changing to one of deep thought and he looked to the shadows of the north from whence they had come by boat. 

"But I would not doubt," Gandalf said warily and mostly to himself, "that there is something about her that may…"

*

The night had been one of merrymaking and a joyous feast to not only welcome the elven representatives from Mithlond, Imladris, and Lothlorien but also to celebrate a recent victory against the orcs to the east. Legolas and Glorfindel amused themselves teaching Telperiel how to dance for she seemed much to enjoy the songs and laughter about her as if she had never heard such pleasant sounds. Elrond had watched the seen some satisfaction filling him just as he had felt the same feelings when he had watched Elrohir teach Estel to string a bow. 

'I bond myself to closely to mortals whose lives are but a flicker of a note upon an endless theme of song in which I live,' Elrond thought sadly as he drank from his goblet. Telperiel could be the little sister of Arwen for in image, it seemed, they were almost likened. Silver were her eyes even if she was blind they were beautiful, and long and dark her hair and fair her features. It seemed that her leg had healed as well for she now moved easily with Glorfindel in the quick dance they did. Elrond smiled but a strange foreboding filled him.

"Mithrandir," Elrond said not taking his gaze off the mortal girl for he suddenly felt protective of her, "You still leave tales untold and I would hear them." He said repeating the wizard's earlier demand of him, quietly so that only his ears would hear. Gandalf sighed.

"I told you I would not…"

Elrond turned his gaze toward him, hard, and sharp.

"I have lived long enough to suffer enough ills and troubles in the world, Mithrandir, one more will not make a difference." Elrond told his friend somewhat stolidly for his thoughts were suddenly on his wife Celebrian who had passed away to the West. He winced at his thoughts and closed his heart to them lest his grief overtake him. Gandalf's eyes softened as if reading the elven lord's thoughts, and Elrond did not doubt that it was exactly what he did.

"Yet one more trouble would make all the difference." Gandalf said softly, "And I would not yet put another burden upon your heart, my friend." He told him. Elrond sighed inwardly turning to the laughing Telperiel. He silently wished that somedays Gandalf's wisdom would not get the better of him but Elrond knew the words he spoke were true. Celebrian's passing may have been many years prior but to an elf's heart the memory pierced him like a wound yet fresh, and Arathorn's passing was still in his memory, as well as Isildur's betrayal, and Gil-Galad's death, and his own brother's choice to be mortal among men, and his foster father was bound to the shores, for Maglor wandered aimlessly with his hands seared by a Silmaril and forever was he chained to Ulmo's song and thought and Elrond had never seen him again.

Elrond closed his eyes for a moment flipping the pages of his life.

His father and his mother had also vanished across the sea. Earendil the Mariner now a star bound to the sky until the end of time, and his mother whose face and voice he barely remembered she had thrown herself to the sea... Elrond swallowed. Why did such sadness plague his life?

And one day, he thought with a bitter taste in his mouth, Estel will go forth into his destiny and someday fade away too, as will Telperiel and I will be filled with grief once more.

Gandalf put a comforting hand on the elf lord's shoulder feeling his burdens. "Perhaps, Lord Elrond, you should focus on the present than the past and the future for each day brings a joy, no matter how far forward or back." Elrond opened his eyes slowly and managed a grim smile. It seemed that Mithrandir had an adage for everything, even for an elf lord whose age had enlightened him and yet Elrond found comfort in the istari. 

"Indeed," the elf lord said quietly, "you are right." 

Glorfindel jumped up before them suddenly a smile playing on his lips.

"Won't you come dance among us, my lord Elrond?" He asked as he turned to glance at Telperiel left in Legolas's care. Elrond smiled genuinely exchanging a glance with Mithrandir.

"With much pleasure, friend!" Elrond said and stood up to enter among the circle of dancers.

Gandalf smiled and lit his pipe.

*

From far off, a dark horse's hoof stamped on the ground entering into Mirkwood leaving a smoke of dust as it moved in. Its rider was glad in black and blood red ring glowed on his finger. A wraith, a shadow in the darkness, and it seemed that even the starlight avoided touching his form making his a void in the forest. Yet the trees quivered when he ran past and winds about him were cold with warning. Inward rode the faceless rider, one of the shadows of Mordor long ago claimed by Sauron.

But now it seeked. For it stopped abruptly in the forest not nearing the elvish settlements so quickly. 

The faceless shadow looked up as if seeking something and its horse breathed in the scent of the air.

And when he caught a lace of it he violently bid the horse forward, iron shod hands clutching the black reigns.

A shadow sped through the night.

*

…_a red eye stood from far away, watching… fire burned… seared her soul… an innocent child, was slain from inside… he called to her… he called her… he wanted her… he seeked her… hands, foul hands touched her…violating… her thoughts… her body… her soul… pain went through her and tears turned to ice… two great eyes of frozen blue opened themselves to her… and darkness descended… and all she felt was pain… and her memory faded away… and a faceless shadow turned to her… 'agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!' whispered a low and seductive tongue…someone grabbed her fiercely… ripped her soul… pain… frozen tears… he called to her… Aiglos…!_

She screamed.

In the darkness of her chamber, where only moonlight filtered through the white veiled window Elrond jumped up from the couch where he was sitting deep in thought, now interrupted, seeing Telperiel roll up into a tight ball upon her bed and hearing her sob and scream unintelligible things fearfully.

"Telperiel, what is it?" asked Elrond softly careful not to come to close. She shook her head and cried still muttering fearful words in her own tongue as if she had forgotten him, "Telperiel, please do not be afraid." As he neared to lay a comforting hand on her she jerked away with a scream backing away to the headboard and clutching her knees closer to her breast.

Glorfindel came in quickly after.

"What happened?"

"I do not know, I believe she had a nightmare and I cannot near her for she strikes out at me." Elrond said softly looking at her and feeling helpless.

_"Ai!" _Glorfindel exclaimed looking at her. She had closed her eyes tightly, sobbing. Elrond sat back down on the couch nearby and began to sing softly.

_A! Elbereth! Gilthoniel! silivren penna miriel o menel! Aglar elenath, na chaered palan-diriel o galadhremmin ennorath! Fanuilos! A! Elbereth! Le linnathon! Nef aear, si nef Aearon!…_*

Glorfindel answered the song's second verse his tone soothing and calming,

_Gilthoniel! A! Elbereth! Nef i fennas-calen linnathonna Earendil! Eria o mornie, eria o uren! Gilthoniel! A! Fanuilosmir! Le linnathon, A! Elbereth!_*

She had stopped her sobbing and her blind gaze turned to the source of the voices and to their amazement she repeated Elrond's phrase in a soft and quiet tone, still trembling from her tears and slowly growing in strength, and yet her sad notes still hung to their praising words.

-_A! Elbereth!… Gilthoniel! silivren penna miriel o menel… aglar elenath, na cheared palan-diriel o galadhremmin ennorath! Fanuilos! A! Elbereth! Le linnathon! Nef aear, si nef Aearon!_-

"Telperiel," Elrond said carefully approaching her.

-_A! Glorfindel! Vanarie!_- she sang tearfully then jumped into Elrond's embrace still trembling. Glorfindel moved to sit by her.

"What frightens her so?" Glorfindel asked softly. Elrond shook his head having no answers but continued humming the song to Telperiel as if to calm her fears.

But a deep fear for Telperiel rose in Elrond and he decided that he must seek the answers from Mithrandir this night, without excuses.

*

AN:

translation to the song (found in LOTR)

Oh! Lady of the Stars! Kindler! Snow falls like jewels from the heavens! The glory of the star host having gazed afar from beneath the woven trees of Middle Earth! Snow White! Oh! Lady of the Stars! I sing to three! Beyond the sea, now beyond the Great Sea.

my added verse (excuse my bad Sindaren if its wrong)

Kindler! Oh! Lady of the Stars! Beyond the bright gateways I sing of Earendil! Rising from the darkness, rising from my heart! Kindler! Oh! Snow White Jewel! I sing to thee, Oh! Lady of the Stars!


	4. The Tale Unfolds

Eye of the Ice Dragon

by Elarin

**to LadyHarlequin: **you're good at the meanings of the words _~ and as for the meaning of 'Vanarie' you're wicked close to what it means. All will be explained in upcoming chapters though!

*

Chapter 4 | The Tale Unfolds

Elrond had left Glorfindel to take care of Telperiel as he quickly left the rooms with an urgent need to find Mithrandir. He asked some of the servants and guards in the halls but none knew, except for one of the younger maids who saw him go by to speak with Thranduil. Elrond sighed deeply and walked toward Thranduil's chambers and knocked lightly on the door.

It opened and a calm face greeted him, with sapphire blue eyes and golden hair.

"Mithrandir told me you would be seeking him, Lord Elrond." said the younger elven king.

"And have you seen him, Thranduil?" Elrond asked accepting his invitation to step in. Thranduil's room seemed woven of tree roots and flowers and it looked out of one of the higher points of the hill where his halls were located beneath. Tapestries depicting old love stories hung upon his walls and elven beryls glimmered  about the twisted vine and white flowers that released their fragrance about the room.

"Indeed, I have. He left." said Thranduil as he sat in one of the nearby chairs close to his balcony where the pale white veil swayed lightly in the breezes. Elrond sighed then in frustration but sat across the other.

"And where is he now?"

"I do not know. But he told me he was on errand, and flew, and said he would shortly and that you would coming looking for him." Thranduil knitted his golden brows, "Something troubles him deeply but I know not what." Thranduil picked up a folded and sealed parchment by one of his shelves, "He left you this."

Elrond opened the letter studying the words written in the tengwar script in Sindaren, and so it began in its usual enigmatic way:

-My dear Lord Elrond,

I would strongly advise you to stay

within the safety of the borders of

Thranduil's realm and keep Telperiel

close by you. There is a matter at 

hand that I must take care of.

I do not wish to trouble you, but

someone seeks to harm her.

Sincerely,

Gandalf the Grey.-

Elrond looked up at Thranduil suddenly, his silver eyes probing. "Has he spoke to you on the matter of the girl?"  as he handed the letter to Thranduil for him to read as well.

Thranduil shook his head looking at the short message.

"Nay, he was but here for a moment to tell me of his departure and to send you this message." Elrond looked out to the few scattered clouds that seemed to cast shadows about the stars and moon.

"Who would seek to harm a mortal child and why?" Elrond asked idly looking at the silver crescent.

"Well, if there are any clues that lie in his message they are these." began Thranduil, "Mithrandir fears enough of this person, whoever it is, that he advises you, one of the wisest among elves and strongest to remain in Mirkwood until he settles the matter."

"Then this thing is not a mortal," Elrond agreed, "Perhaps something out of Mordor?" He asked mostly to himself. Thranduil looked bristled at the thought.

"There are enough things from Mordor in this forest already." The golden haired elven-king said grimly. "Already has my own sons taken wounds fending them off from our secret trails and paths. And even if your guess is correct we come back to the same question, my lord, why would it seek a mortal child?"

"I do not know, Thranduil." said Elrond quietly as he got up, "I do not know."

*

_By Varda! _thought Gandalf in awe as he trudged through the woods clutching only his knarled staff, _By Varda 'he' had an heir! _

The old wizard spoke not aloud for he was still in the Silvan elves' territory though he knew their watchful eyes and ears would only be reassurance he would pass through the wood in safety for they knew him. But even with their eyes about Gandalf felt a dark presence in the air, and it was that presence that triggered his earlier assumption about the girl Elrond found to be true.

_But what witchery has kept her naught but fourteen mortal years of age for she is beyond that? _Gandalf shook his head and kept on trudging. _Or is the legend of the Ice Dragon true?_

Gandalf silently pondered on it. Telperiel was indeed young in face and with child like innoncence and thought, but something was not right about her, and Gandalf had noticed that immediately as soon as she stepped onto Thranduil's ground. It was as if the core of her being had been twisted and changed for her to hold onto her form, moreover it seemed as if she were bound by unseen chains to something dark. And Gandalf was troubled about the darkness that dwelt in the depth of her seemingly bright eyes.

The tongue she spoke was indeed different, and Gandalf could not make it out for it contained elements of the elvish tongue but it was all at once nothing like it. Light as a breeze and lost in the song of the sea were the sounds of her language but Gandalf could make nothing of it. She was capable of learning. That was evident and it seemed to him that she caught on to the elvish tongues and learned to understand them quickly. 

She had a gift for it. That much Gandalf was sure. And he could read her heart insofar to know that she trusted Glorfindel and Elrond with her life and she saw both of them as fathers to her and yet her origins, though vague they may be, led to… Gandalf broke off the thought abruptly praying to the Valar that his assumptions, for once, were wrong. 

He truly did not wish to see Elrond suffer another pain when he had just found yet another joy beside that of his own children.  

_But is it 'him'? _Gandalf wondered worriedly as he neared the borders that led out of Thranduil's domain into the untamed wood filled with fell creatures.

From far off, yet not so far, he heard a cry in the night.

_"Ulairi!" _cried an elven voice in vain. Other elven watchers mimicked the cry in warning.

And from the trees, the birds called out in fear, and mourning, and their wings fluttered away swiftly and without hesitation creating waves of dancing shadows in the skies.

"Nazgul." Gandalf muttered feeling an anger shaking from his being. But another feeling rose in him, and he realized, he knew, who this was.

For this was no ordinary Nazgul. 

It was _him._

_And he seeked her…_

Gandalf sped himself toward the elves, silently making a vow under his breath.

He would not have her.

*

Five had been slain.

Yet it was a blessed fortune that it had been only five for it could have been more.

Thranduil heard the news with great despair the next morning and Legolas' expression was stricken with sadness, for he had been close to two of them. Elrond and Arcalion of Lothlorien listened to the news with foreboding. 

"He came at us with a black fury," reported Daedrin one of the head archers, "A shadow devoid of any light, for light refused to touch him We had shot him thrice with our arrows but he did not fall. His fiery black blade was drawn and he slew Damloth, and Arcum, and then struck out Edelrant." He said mourning in his voice. "Alas! I too had been caught in the snare of the black rider's enchantment! The enemy was going to trample me with his black beast, a horse no longer, for rage ran through its veins and I could not force myself to move. But Elledhmir…" He nearly choked his grief deepening then swallowed down the feeling, "Elledhmir pushed me aside and saved me only to be slain himself." He took in a deep breath before he continued. "Then Meltirion did a daring thing, and jumped from the trees upon the rider's back." a shiver went through him at the memory and the elves about them felt it, "The enemy's horse kicked up its fore legs knocking him off and the rider turned around and stabbed his black blade into his throat…" he trailed off not being able to speak more on the matter.

"And Mithrandir came?" asked Thranduil softly encouraging the archer to speak further. Daedrin nodded.

"Yes, my lord, as if the wind had brought him there to our aid!" He exclaimed, "Had it not been for Mithrandir all the elves in the western borders of the Forest River would have been slain for the rider did not intend to end his slaughter there! Mithrandir appeared before us and with his prayer the winds indeed gave us aid, for the leaves on the floor lifted in a whirlwind attack the rider and eventually he fled at the Grey One's bright gaze." Many of the elves about cheered and gave a bright exclamation at the thought and praise Manwe, Lord of the Winds, for his aid. "But Mithrandir left us warning us that the black rider would return and possibly with a greater fury, he strongly asked you to further fortify the western marches, my lord, for they are now no safer than your eastern ones." 

Thranduil exchanged a glance with Elrond, it held no accusation but merely questioning.

"Then the western marches will be fortified at the Grey One's counsel." Thranduil announced, "And none should leave the forest by night any longer without special dictate from myself and my march wardens." He added.

Elrond also knew the underlying message in the dictate was for him and he understood what Thranduil was actually telling him:

'You're not leaving here until Mithrandir returns and until I get answers.'

Elrond sighed inwardly. 

When Mithrandir returned, he thought in some irony, a few ages would have come and gone…

*

Telperiel sat in a bed of moss and flowers within one of the many inner gardens of Thranduil's Halls. Glorfindel sat by her fiddling with his harp and singing to her old song with old tales, for it seemed to him that these songs pleased her. a good four hours had passed in the morning and he was becoming more satisfied that she seemed to catch on to the songs and sing them as well with her voice, and her voice was fair for that of as mortal girl. When they had finished singing part of the Lay of Earendil she focused her blind sight to him, though truly she was focusing on the origin of his voice, and then blinked twice.

"Glorfindel, where is Vanarie?" she asked suddenly. 

Glorfindel almost dropped his harp hearing her speak clear Sindaren. He blinked at her, but of course she did not notice that for her blindness prevented her from doing so.

"He is at a council of Thranduil's, discussing important things." Glorfindel said slowly wondering how much else she knew.

"oh." she said simply and leaned back against one of the greater elm trees. Glorfindel studied her for a moment.

"Do you understand me, Telperiel?" he finally asked. A smile touched her lips.

"Yes, Glorfindel," she said her voice its usual chanting quiet, "I understand you."

Glorfindel gaped at her. She had learned to speak Sindaren in less than a day.

"How…?" He began not sure where to begin his questioning.

"By song." She replied, "I can learn things by song." She added more quietly, "Only if you sing it may I learn it."

"Why?"

The girl's face turned to concern and slight sadness.

"I don't know. It has always been that way." She told him, "Before there was blackness. Then I could sing."

Oh dear Elbereth, thought Glorfindel but he was suddenly joyous that he would communicate with her, Elrond must see this! 

He put down his harp and took her up by the hands.

"I think, Vanarie, as you call him, will be glad to finally be able to speak to you, little _nimloth._" Glorfindel told her.

She laughed light heartedly.

"And I would be happy to speak to him as well!"

*

Elrond was walking about the halls alone after the council, deep in thought when Glorfindel decided to interrupt them. 

"Elrond! Elrond! You must hear this!" came his voice from around the corner.

"Elrond? Is that his name? But now I am confused, Glorfindel, for I thought he was Vanarie!" came another voice that Elrond knew well. He stopped mid step as Glorfindel led her to him. Her unfocused eyes searching about. Did he hear her correctly? Or was it merely a phantom if his thought speaking?

"Vanarie?" She asked. Elrond studied her. She seemed at once happy and surprised but also lost and confused.

"You can speak our tongue?" Elrond asked her still surprised. She smiled brightly at him and jumped into his embrace.

"Indeed, but your friend calls you Elrond, I thought you were Vanarie… your face is much like his." She said a complicated look passing her features. Once more she reached up to his face simply to make sure, "Yes, you are Vanarie…" Elrond simply stared into her lost silver eyes for the longest moment as Glorfindel attempted to gush out some explanation.

"She told me she can learn things through song," said Glorfindel, "She remembers nothing of her past but remembers that she could sing."

Elrond swallowed absorbing what he had just heard but felt utterly confused as well.

"Telperiel, I am not Vanarie. Who is Vanarie, and what does that word mean?" He asked her in a calm and patient voice. She frowned attempting to focus her thoughts but seemed all the more confused than he was.

"Well… he…" she stopped gathering herself, "Vanarie means 'Shining One,' he came to me when I was little… I remember him… it was in the rain… when we were lost, in the darkness… and he saved me.. from…" she stopped knitting her brow as if in confusion of thought and memory, "His other name is… is…" she paused as if trying to recall, 

"Elros." 

At this, both Glorfindel and Elrond gaped in disbelief.

*

AN: aren't these short chapters killing you? more to come. promise. but I think your wishing to hard for a happy ending…


	5. The Shadows of Angmar

The Eye of the Ice Dragon

by Elarin

*

Chapter 5 | The Shadow of Angmar

Elrond and Glorfindel sat down with her upon one of the golden balconies giving a wondrous view of the Misty Mountains afar. She spoke to them of idle things, of flowers, and songs, and of all things that would seem childish perhaps. She seemed purely at wonder with the things around her as she was able to understand them now and their descriptions of things when she asked: with the birds, and the scent of the white flowering vines within Thranduil's halls, and the elven singers scattered about.

"This must be the most wonderfull place in all the world." She said softly her eyes misted over focusing inward, "Elrond, if you are not Elros then how is it that you are likened to him? And how is it that you shine like him as well?" She asked blinking her blind gaze as if trying to blink away the blindness.

Elrond and Glorfindel exchanged glances.

"Elros was my twin brother." Elrond told her slowly. She took this in for a moment then smiled easily.

"And where is he now? And when will I be able to see him again…" She then frowned at her own words, "Well, I mean…" Elrond smiled taking her hands.

"I understand, Telperiel," Elrond told her but his voice became soft and mournfull, "But I do not think you will ever see Elros again, for he has passed into the shadows long ago." He said. But he was beyond puzzled. How is it that she could have known Elros? She was a young mortal! Naught but a few years of age and a child still! And Elros had passed away long ago… long before the fall of Numenor, and to mortals that was but ancient times.

She now looked all the more mystified and saddened. 

"But when… where…?" Elrond placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and sang her a single verse praying that some understanding and memory before the blackness would reach her:

_From high above the eastern skies a shadow cast itself over shining Armenelos when Elros, the First Lord, walked the lonely road to his death bed. And there he took the crown from his fair head and at last slipped into the dreamless sleep forever… before the fall of Numenor…before the shadows came…and from far away a raven sang "The day will come again…when the kings from the sea will lead the Edain…"_

Glorfindel was silent knowing the grief still lay heavy in Elrond's heart for his brother's departure from the earth.

"I am sorry." whispered Telperiel but all at once her sadness seemed greater. Elrond managed a grim smile.

"Let it not trouble you for we are two fates apart." Elrond said, "But you have been a mystery to us, Telperiel, and I would hear yet your tale. But how shall I begin to wonder from  whence you came and what sort of a jewel you are?"

"Ask me." she said managing a smile though she was still deep in thought.

"Very well," Elrond said, "How old are you?" 

"Fourteen winters and summers have passed since my birth in …" she stopped for a moment as if seeking a place and time. "Numenor."

Glorfindel leaned forward toward her.

"Sweet Telperiel! That is not possible! For Numenor fell yet long ago!"

"I know." She whispered her voice shaking, "I saw it."

Once more Elrond exchanged a puzzling gaze with Glorfindel. If she saw the fall of Numenor and yet had met Elros then she must be old indeed! Then why did she not seem to know it? What an enigma she was! It seemed that Mithrandir had known something but was a farid to say.

And shall it lay trouble in my heart? Elrond wondered looking at her.

"What is your true name?" She seemed silent as he asked that question, for a long moment, and then she managed to reply, fear in her voice.

"I don't know… I don't remember… all I see is black as if its been torn out of me, from my heart… I can't tell you what I saw…or felt…I do not know my name…!" Now she was quivering fiercely with sadness and despair. Elrond leaned down taking her hands. They were as cold as ice. Elrond did not want to see her this way, not in pain.

"Sshhh… speak not more, little one, if it hurts to speak. Tell me of your songs, then, tell me of your tongue and what you hear and see with sight unseen." He asked her not wanting to hurt her though the mystery of her being knawed him. Who was this child? How old was she? How did she know of Elros? And the fall of Numenor? Where, in Aman, was Mithrandir?! 

She swallowed softening to his request.

"The tongue I speak is the song of the world." she told him softly turning her face toward the breeze, "Everything sings, that is where I learned to speak when everything was black, when I was alone…" She trailed off, "The rocks sang, the ice and the snow," She whispered, "In the spring the flowers sang and the summer winds." She told him and her expression brightened and Elrond felt her hands grow warm once more. "And I learned the song of the world and I sang it, because it scared away the darkness and when I sang the darkness couldn't touch me and I would remember little things. Beautiful things from when I was little and when I met Vanarie…" She told him softly. Ah! So that would it explain why it seemed that some words seemed elvish. For when the elves awoke at Cuivienen and beheld the stars they too heard a song unheard.

"Do not despair, Telperiel," said Glorfindel to her, "We shall help you find your way and if the song of the world would aid us as well then we would cast away all darkness and fix all things of the past if we could."

Her blind eyes were misted over once more with foreboding.

"A past?" she whispered, "I barely remember mine… and think I do not want to remember…" 

*

Two weeks had passed.

Gandalf arrived at the borders of Angmar. He looked at the barren land, still dark with an old shadow. It was early morn but it seemed that the light of the sun did not wish to touch this place and neither could Gandalf blame it. For once there ruled here The Witch King, chief of the Nazgul, and it was he that attacked the elven guards in Mirkwood. Gandalf walked warily through the rocky cliffs nearing an abandoned and crumbling tower using his skill to hide himself from any other dark thing that dwelt there. 

He walked into the condemned fortress made of iron clad stone and shivered feeling the darkness there.

It was not one of his favorite places, at any rate.

'I wonder if I can find any clues in here…' he wondered. And he walked up the winding steps covered in dust and left unkempt. So dark was this place that not even goblins or stray orcs would make their home of it.  He found a hall and walked into it clutching his staff and curiously looking about from the shadow of his grey hat. When he found a room with an open and blackened door, that had been burned in earlier years, he entered it feeling that here were the answers that he was seeking.

And he found them.

Before him was a stone desk, now but a pile of rubble on the ground. Dusty  books and parchment lay scattered about as well as broken bottles of unknown substances Gandalf avoided touching. He picked up some of the parchment carefully so it wouldn't crumble in his hands. A shiver passed up through him. The paper held dark sensations and as he looked at the writing it was written in the black speech. Broken letters, broken words, merely messages to an accomplice, some other were orders written out to underlings. Others were short accounts of personal thoughts. Then he found one that caught his immediate interest, stuck within a book of old histories, and although its edges were burnt the paper was still whole. 

Again writing in the black speech. But these were no orders to be sent by heralds, nor any business like formality. They were thoughts. Old and dark thoughts. Gandalf read the cryptic message upon it written by a Nazgul's hand, and indeed, like everything in the room, it was as cold as ice to the touch. A burning cold that could bring ill to any other mortal or creature about but Gandalf was immune to the black enchantment that lay upon it.

_…I do not know, why deep regrets lie within me. All that I desire will soon be granted as long as I serve the dark one, Sauron. already my power is great. I have legions of orcs, and black beasts at my whim and even servants from Harad. This great tower was completed for my purposes and soon there will be more of the spoil to gain. But then there is the trouble with Silme… I almost loathe to put that name here. The tongue of elves, words that are of no use to me anymore. Sauron has given me a choice:  send her to Mordor to become a woman-slave or kill her myself. I would not let Sauron touch her, she is mine, and forever shall be. Of my blood and nobility. Anger had already flooded me when he came to visit and dared to toy with her. But it was not my right nor turn to speak against him. I shall bide my time and  I shall bring her to Ered Mithrin, to the old thing and leave her there, that even Sauron has little knowledge of. Let her stay there until the end of days. For at least there I know, Sauron shall not find her nor will he try to take her…and after I am rid of her… I shall get on with my own plans…_

"Silme?" Gandalf whispered and in the dead silence it echoed lightly on the blackened walls. Could this be Telperiel? Gandalf looked at it again.

_… I shall bring her to Ered Mithrin, to the old thing…_

An understanding dawned on Gandalf. He finally realized from whence she came and what she was and why age had not touched her. He placed the letter back in the book, deciding not to keep it and idly brushed his hands upon his cloak in hopes to brush away the foul feeling of things he had touched here.

It was time to return to Mirkwood and report his findings to Elrond, for he would not doubt that the elven lord was beginning to learn imapatience.

*

Night had come.

Elrond tucked Telperiel into her bed since Glorfindel had decided to scout the western borders with Legolas, for he worried about her just as much as Elrond did. The moon had gone its full circle and now its face did not show in the sky and only the stars twinkled amid the woven trees. 

"May I ask you something?" Elrond asked her in Sindaren, for it seemed that they understood each other fluently now.

"Yes?"

"What was my brother like to you, when you met him?" Elrond asked her. He didn't know why he asked this. Perhaps he was looking for some peace, some closing to the sadness he felt for his brother's departure from the world. Telperiel sighed deeply.

"He was much like you," She said softly, "When I was little, I was running through Numenor in the rain, I was but seven years of age and I liked to explore the city much. But this memory is the only memory I remember clearly in my life for it seemed the song of the world reminded me of him. Back then, I was not blind." She said sadly, "And yet, I can't remember not being blind except in this memory and it is one of the dearest thoughts I cling to when I am afraid, when I sing, I think of him. I met him because I had snuck into the property of one of the lords held in high esteem, alas, I do not remember his name! But Elros had caught me and appeared suddenly beside me from a window I deemed empty. He laughed and asked me what I was doing sneaking about like a fox." She smiled at the memory and Elrond smiled with her. Elros was always the first to laugh, no matter how dark a time it could be. "I told him I wasn't sneaking about, I was merely wandering. He knew who I was though, and my family and he took me into the lord's house he was visiting, for they were holding a great feast in his honor." She swallowed, "He sang to me… that song you sung me a few nights ago. The song to the Lady of the Stars." 

This Elrond knew well. For it was a song both Elros and Elrond knew well, for it was the song Maglor sang to them to comfort them when he found them abandoned after their father had vanished and their mother had cast herself into the sea. Elrond sighed closing his eyes at the memory.

"You were close to him?" asked Telperiel quietly.

"Dearly." said Elrond.

"Sing then." She told him dreamily falling to sleep, "Sing and he'll hear you. For he's part of the song now."

Elrond smiles watching her close her eyes. He leaned forward and gently kissed her upon the forehead.

"I shall, my little _nimloth_." Elrond whispered quietly, "And when I do, I shall sing of you."

*

AN: -sigh- be forewarned. this story is only going to get sadder…  
  



	6. Where the Road Leads

The Eye of the Ice Dragon

by Elarin

**To the Readers: **has anyone read into the Histories of Middle Earth to know the name of the Numenorean Lord who became the Witch King/Nazgul (I don't think it was Tar-Pharazon… or was it)? If so mention it on the reviews for I will be very thankful since I need it for my stories.

***Silme**= **"starlight" in Quenya**

*

Chapter 6 | Where the Road Leads…

Two great ice blue eyes set in a frightful face of glittering white silver scales opened…

*

It rained the next morning. 

But it was not common rain, and in the springs of Mirkwood the rain came down almost as winter slush, cold and frozen water to the touch. Both Glorfindel and Legolas found this weather odd and had went to Elrond to speak to him about it. But just as before Elrond had no answers to this at all. 

Elrond walked into Telperiel's room to see her sitting up in her bed staring off to nowhere. "Good morning, little _nimloth,_" He said affectionately, "How are you?" She did not smile at him, it seemed as if she had not heard his entrance at all; Elrond knitted his brow in concern. "Telperiel?" He asked nearing her bed.

"He is coming." She whispered and finally tears broke from her glassy gaze, "I see his face in my dreams he shall not leave me." Elrond sat by her and embraced her tightly.

"Who?"

"The shadowed one whose face you cannot see." she told him. The thought of the Nazgul came into Elrond's mind, "But I can see his face, and when he nears the song of the world turns to shudder and there is a terrible silence from where he comes and where he steps." 

"He shall not enter here." Elrond said, "This forest is guarded to closely by those who watch." He sincerely wanted Mithrandir to return soon though because his guest was beginning to earn curious and suspicious gazes from other elves that were about and Thranduil was slowly beginning to believe the talk that she was a bad omen and ill luck was about her. Elrond promptly ignored the gossip and chose instead to care for her as best he could.

He had already spoke with Glorfindel the night before. They had already planned they were taking her to Imladris with them in three days, and if Mithrandir did not arrive within those three days they would be off because at the looks of it the wood elves were not fond of the strange mortal they had brought with them.

"Someone else watches as well," she whispered quietly closing her eyes and lulling herself upon Elrond's chest, "And I know he won't let the shadow touch me."

"Who?" Elrond asked quietly.

She shook her head.

"You would not like him much, for he is not a friend of elves, nor dwarves, nor men." She told him, "But neither is he a friend of shadows." She managed a slight smile, "But he is my friend."

Elrond decided not to press on the subject perhaps figuring he didn't want to know what was not a friend of elves…

*

They had donned heavy cloaks and took their bows and repertoire of arrows with them.

Legolas and Glorfindel went out in the harsh frozen rain trailing the borders of Mirkwood on foot deciding it was best to leave the horses behind. Legolas looked wistfully at the branches above on the trees that had practically been glazed with ice and the flowers that died beneath them. "Some fell thing brings this storm." He said. Glorfindel said nothing in reply but looked about. They knew that they could not climb the trees for safety if they needed to since the ice would not allow them to do so.

"You know what I find strange." said Glorfindel finally, "There has not been one stray orc out here since the attack a fortnight ago." 

"I have noticed that also. You don't suppose the Nazgul that came here ordered them off?" Legolas asked him. Glorfindel looked at the frozen bows puzzled.

"If so, why?" he wondered aloud, "He seemed to make it obvious that he was on a rampage to kill all the guards on the western border and make his way in and I know, as you have told me before hand, you were having trouble with orcs and goblins about your western borders as well as some occasional wargs. Those attacks have since ceased."

"It is a riddle to me as well, friend, and I too have no answers." 

Glorfindel sighed deeply at Legolas's reply.

"It seems we are all lacking answers." said the other dryly but managed a smile, "Come, let us go about a little past the border and see if we can find some clues."

Legolas drew and notched one of his arrows, "One cannot be to cautious." He replied to Glorfindel's raised eyebrow and then the elder elf mimicked his action. 

"That is true."

*

The sound cracking twig under horses hooves startled Glorfindel.

Both elves stopped hearing the noise. It had been two hours since they passed from the central border to the northeast of the wood and it had been the first noise they heard amid the silence for the exception of the frozen rain continuing to beat down of the trees and the dead leaves of the forest floor.

_"Tiro!" _hissed Glorfindel as they neared a clearing with their silent steps.

Before them stood a Nazgul upon his black horse that still carried the scars from the elves who had before tried to stop them. The faceless shadow hissed and its horse stomped upon the frozen leaves impatiently.

_Put down your weapons… hissed the black rider in a voiceless sound that seemed like the frozen winds within a nightmare._

"Not likely." spat Glorfindel narrowing his eyes toward the thing of Mordor as he stepped out from behind a great elm tree.

"You are not welcome here." added Legolas nimbly stepping by his side.

The Nazgul merely hissed with laughter causing both elves to shiver. But Glorfindel stood firm and a terrible light shone in his eyes.

"What is your business here?" Glorfindel demanded. The Nazgul hissed.

_Bring me the girl…The mortal girl who is of no concern of yours…_

"Why do you seek her?" He continued but did not put down his weapon nor loosened his grip upon the bow one bit.

_… she is of no concern of yours… he hissed again and his invisible gaze turned to Legolas whose own senses began to falter. Glorfindel stepped in front of his friend in order to be a barrier between him and the Nazgul's enchantment. But the Nazgul began to back away from the two elves seeing the power that lied in Glorfindel for he had come from the West long ago and a light shone in his eyes to be reckoned with. __… bring me the girl in three nights here, to this place, bring her to me and Mirkwood shall not fall under my hand…_

At hearing this Legolas let fly one of his arrows at the enemy. But the Nazgul moved faster unsheathing his black sword and in one swift movement split the arrow and charged for Legolas letting out a terrible scream that shocked both elves for a moment, but more so Legolas than Glorfindel, for he was young yet and a child of the race of elves that never saw the light of the Two Trees. 

The Nazgul took his opportunity and flew between them kicking down Glorfindel then slashing violently at the Legolas.

After he finished his business he turned to Glorfindel who was unsure and dizzied by the Nazgul's scream though he had already drawn his own sword.

_…Let this be a warning to Thranduil, that his house shall fall son by son until my wish is done… and it fled away, Glorfindel ignored him and turned to Legolas who had taken a hard blow to the side and was bleeding profusely._

_"Ai!" he cried out coming to his friend's side. Glorfindel ignored the cold of the rain and ripped off a shred of his cloak and bound Legolas's wound with it. "Legolas! Can you hear me?" Glorfindel called to his friend. __"Henye galad, Legolas! Henye i hu-galad!" Glorfindel said in prayer._

"Elbereth…" muttered Legolas opening his eyes slowly, "By Elbereth…" He gasped clutching his side his face turning pale. Glorfindel collected the other's bow and sword then picked him up.

"I will get you to Elrond, stay with me Legolas, stay with the light…" he said the younger elf quietly.

"Glorfindel," Legolas whispered his eyes growing heavy with poison, "Glorfindel, I am cold…"

*

From far away the high pitched scream made Telperiel's gaze turn sullen and she clutched to Elrond more tightly. "He is here…" she whispered. Elrond looked out immediately concerned. Glorfindel and Legolas were out there among the guards of the forest and so was the Nazgul. 

"Why does he want you?" Elrond voiced his thoughts in a whisper. She merely shook her head and said nothing and Elrond felt her skin grow like ice beneath him as she shivered terror overtaking her. Elrond hugged her more tightly laying his lips on her soft hair and silently whispering to her words of comfort in Quenya:

_…Nai hiruvalye ore urenen, Telperiel, ar nai hiruvalye i-tie nuin elenya…*_

Telperiel weeped silently in fear.

Elrond felt helpless, but he gave her the only reassurance he could.

"Do not fear." Elrond whispered to her, "You are coming home with me, Glorfindel and I will bring you to the safety of Imladris, for there no darkness will fall upon it as long as we abide there."

"Thank you." She whispered blinking away the tears, but her fear had not left her, and her blind silver eyes seemed distant as if she herself were searching for an answer.

*

_"Ai!" cried out one of the elvish archers seeing Glorfindel carry Legolas in. Legolas was a bloody mess and Glorfindel was iced over from the frozen rain._

"Find me a room and get me Elrond!" Glorfindel ordered. One of the guards quickly led Glorfindel to the nearest empty room in the soldiers quarters, "Water!" Glorfindel said, "A bowl of water, quickly!" he bid him. No one asked questions, they simply obeyed not wanting to see their prince die.

Elrond came in soon after Thranduil following him for news traveled fast in his halls.

"Varda!" Thranduil whispered his gaze becoming forlorn as he looked at his badly injured son.

"It was the Nazgul." Glorfindel told Elrond.

"And what was the poison?" asked Elrond quickly as the servant placed the bowl of water, and cloths, on a nearby table, "Did you catch a glimpse of the hilt of his sword?"

"Indeed, it was the first thing I did," said Glorfindel, "It was a mixture of Nightshade though I do not know the identities of the other poisons. Though it was writ: _Azelkhuz, and __Burzumlik in the black tongue, and those poisons I know not." He said as Elrond untied his dressing and looked at the wound and rolled up his sleeves._

"Get me _athelas, and some __elyloth." He told the servant who stood by the doorway ready, "and a balm of __nimloth." He added seeing Legolas's eyes dilating._

He began to cough out blood and his wound had turned into a foul dark violet color.

"Will he live?" asked Thranduil his voice deep with anger and concern. The two servants brought in the herbs that were needed and Elrond got to work.

"It's too soon to tell, but his chances are good seeing that you have one of the greatest healers in Middle Earth here." Glorfindel told him soberly.

"Legolas," said Elrond softly, "Legolas, can you hear me?"

"Alas… the world is dimming…" said the elf darkly and coughed violently once more. Elrond wiped the blood away from his mouth and began cleaning the wound.

"Not yet." He said resolved and began spreading the white flower balm upon the palms of Legolas's hands and upon his brow, its sweet fragrance filled the room. "Help me get his tunic off," but Glorfindel was already ahead of him cutting it off with his dagger and throwing the bloody rags aside.

Legolas's breathing was becoming labored.

"Legolas stay with me." whispered Elrond under his breath and rubbed the dry _athelas between his hands until it dusted into a fine powder and he mixed it into the bowl of water. _

"I see… shadows…" Legolas said between coughs. Glorfindel sat byt him on the bed and gripped his shoulders firmly looking into Legolas's eyes.

"Do not leave yet. You are needed here still."

*

Later that night… 

Elrond sighed deeply and stepped outside of the room where Thranduil was pacing. "He will live." He told the king. "And I am beginning to think it is best if we leave." He added.

"If that thing could strike down one of the best archers in Mirkwood," said Thranduil sullenly, "I would dare not let you head back to Imladris alone."

"It wants Telperiel, Thranduil." Elrond told him recalling Glorfindel's account of what happened, "It will go where she goes, and if she goes away from here so will the black rider."

"And you will lead it to Imladris?" Thranduil asked his dubiously. Imladris had been hidden for many years now and Sauron knew not where the haven for many of the elves lied west of the Misty Mountains.

"Nonsense," came a familiar voice, both elven lords turned to see Mithrandir, "They shall go upon the backs of the great eagles who bore me here, like Turgon and his city of Gondolin, for Sauron's eyes shall not see them."

"Where in the Valar have you been, Mithrandir?" demanded Thranduil.

"Peace! I am aware of what happened and I am sorry for it!" Gandalf told them and sighed deeply. "Indeed the Nazgul wants Telperiel, but you shall not let him claim her if it be for her sake alone. For that Nazgul, the Witch King of Angmar, to her grave misfortune, is her father."

Elrond looked at the istari perplexed as if the news had hit him like a slap across the face. The Nazgul was her father? Elrond shivered at the thought.

"What?" Elrond asked in a whisper. He could not see a Nazgul having a daughter, especially so fair and lighthearted a daughter, but then again there were so many broken pieces to this puzzle that Elrond was becoming unsure of the entire tale. Thranduil was only further confused with everything.

"That was the Witch King?" He asked knowing that the Witch King, former lord of Angmar, was the chief of the Nine Black Riders.

"Indeed." said Gandalf with a sigh and he took out a pouch from his pocket. "Take this," he said handing it to Thranduil, "Mix it with some of your wine and have Legolas drink it, it should make the wound fade away and bring back his strength bit by bit."

"Thank you." said the Elven King, "You have a habit of appearing when you are needed." He added.

"Old habits die hard," Gandalf said with some good humor but his expression became serious once more, "You and Glorfindel will have to pack tonight, bring Telperiel with you, Gwaihir and his companion shall bear us to Imladris." He told them.

"In this storm?" asked Thranduil, "I suppose the eagles had to fly over it."

"They did, and its clouds served as ample covering for no one knew from whence they came and no one will know then where they go." said Gandalf, "But the Witch King will sense that his daughter is no longer here and he will fly to search elsewhere, though I doubt he will find Imladris for the rivers guard its secret well."

Thranduil sighed deeply,

"Then you have my leave to go, and I pray the Valar guide your way." Elrond and Thranduil clasped each others forearms in good will.

"I promised you I would send you archers," Elrond told Thranduil, "You have my vow as soon as I enter into Imladris I will dispatch a force to aid you."

"My deepest thanks, Lord Elrond," Thranduil said, "May the light of Elbereth bless your road as well as Telperiel's. I wish you the best."

Elrond's expression turned to a grim mask as he thought about Telperiel.

"And you also my friend."

*

As soon as they left those hallways and Glorfindel had split up to find his own rooms Elrond turned to Gandalf more confused than ever.

"The Witch King is her father?" Elrond asked again as if he was unsure that the wizard had told his correctly. Gandalf nodded.

"Yes, he is." He said bleakly.

"But… how?" Elrond asked as if seeing no other question appropriate for the matter. Gandalf shook his head.

"How is he her father or how could she live that long and remain unchanged?" asked Gandalf glancing at the other.

"Both." said Elrond.

"Have you ever heard that old myth…? The one just about as old from the times when the elves at the Meres of Awakening were dealing with the shadows about them? The one of the Ice Dragon?" asked Gandalf.

In reply, Elrond recited a verse from a fragment of an old lay without a title: 

"Beyond the frozed lands of the north, beneath the shadows of the darkness, when the world still lay asleep in twilight there rose from the deep the cold pits of Angband a dire thing in winter's glare. Its raiment was snow white as Varda's glistening sight, and its wings glimmered with mithril sheen and its eyes the frozen cast of ice that stopped time within its gaze… so beautiful it was that the Dark One locked it in a northern maze, for his envy had grown against his mold, and forever would it sleep beneath the icy earth in cold and silent slumber…"

"But what does that have to do with anything?" asked Elrond. Gandalf stopped in the middle of the hall way and stared at him

"…_its eyes the frozen cast of ice that stopped time within its gaze…" Gandalf told him. "Glaurung was not the first of dragons." Gandalf told him as they began walking again, "Long ago when the world was yet young the first Dark Lord, whose name I dare not utter, experimented with the formation of dragons. His first whelp was a white one, borne of the snow and of the ice and he is named Aiglos in your tongue, the Ice Dragon, in the legend of men._

"Aiglos was so fair in raiment and form that his maker scoffed it for he was looking for a thing of terror, not beauty. So he created vaults in the north, a labyrinth of mazes which you found the entrance to in Ered Mithrin, in which the dwarves would not enter for Aiglos is not a thing they speak of, and there he locked up Aiglos never to be found again. 

"But the dragon had a strange bane to it, that one who looked into his eyes would be caught in a spell where time would not affect him and his memory would slowly fade. So it was with Telperiel, for the Witch King abandoned her there, so possessive was he of his daughter, whose true name is Silme." Gandalf finished. 

"Silme." Elrond whispered, "So fair a name for a daughter who came out of darkness."

*

AN:  so does anyone know who the Witch King was before in his mortal days, before he was Witch King??? anyone??

*translation for Elrond's blessing to Telperiel: "…May you find warmth within your heart, Telperiel, and may you find the road beneath the stars…"


	7. A New Home

The Eye of the Ice Dragon

by Elarin

**to the readers: **thank you for the reviews! I really love them! they make me feel so… talented (as if that word applied to me… lol). came back from my junior prom the other night (actually had a blast by myself!) and saw a vision of the full moon veiled by clouds amid the fragrance of lilac flowers highly inspired me to write the next chapter. So here it is…

*

Chapter 7 | A Place to Call Home

Telperial was covered in Elrond's heavy cloak as they took the skies and over the clouds in the cool night. Although the elves were not affected by it Telperiel became drowsy. She sat in front of Elrond as one of the great eagles, Ilmen, bore them up upon the roads of the winds. They flew beneath the stars which her blind eyes could not see under the pregnant silver moon.

_Aiglos…_ she barely whispered in a silent voice but her heart spoke it yet louder as her eye lids grew heavy as they soared west toward Imladris.

_Silme…_ came a resonant voice as if from deep within her and yet it was but a whisper of a breeze barely kissing the crowning leaves of a tree amidst the forest. She saw the two great blue eyes of endless depths within her mind's eye and she took in a breath of surprise. 

That name, she thought, I know that name… Something deep within her began to sing, a cry, a high and lonely note among the silence of the night within her heart.

Suddenly she was not there anymore, she could not feel the winds upon her face nor the warmth of Elrond sitting close behind her.

And yet I hear his heart… came the whisper of her thought as his name crossed briefly through her heart.

And Aiglos knew her heart, his eyes ever watchful… 

_Aiglos… _she thought longingly again and she felt as if she were balancing between the borders of pleasure of pain for once where gardens grew with bright and fair flowers and birds sang there was but snow, and bare limbs of leafless trees embellished only with the sunlight over glistening ice. 

_Vanarie… _she thought wishing for warmth, wishing for a comfort away from the cold of winter.

Her thoughts frightened her and she was unsure why.

"Telperiel?" his voice seemed but an echo, far away, "Telperiel, are you alright?" 

But she did not hear him. For the song grew within her.

Slowly another note wove itself into the first creating a heart breaking harmony. Telperiel hummed the tune slowly. The song was always the same for it was part of a great song and she heard it, deep within her, just as she heard Aiglos.  But this song was woven not of winter, it was woven of spring and she hummed it, and something anew grew within her. Warmth. The warmth spread through her.. opening her up... starting to melt away the ice…

_Silme…!_ called the resonant voice more strongly and urgently than before. She stopped humming her song broken away from it and now all she saw was a great and despairingly beautiful and terrible thing and its blue eyes drew her to him. _do not leave me…_ he whispered his voice fading filled with sadness, _beautiful one… not yet…do not leave me…_

She suddenly felt terribly guilty and swallowed and once again and when she opened her eyes the world was but a dark blur of shadows and sounds.

_Aiglos…_ she whispered and deep within the silence of her heart… she cried.

*

Elrond felt her fall asleep upon his breast but he was troubled. He tightened his arms around the girl to show her reassurance. She seemed not to notice having fallen into her dreams. Elrond sighed deeply, though he was somewhat happier at the thought that they would finally arrive to Imladris, and he certainly would be happy for the comfort of his home and to see his sons and Estel and Gilraen again. Part of him deeply missed Arwen, for he had not seen her a few years and he doubted that he would see her in a few more for she had found respite in Lothlorien with her grand mother Galadriel. And what were the years for elves, Elrond thought, but a few idle days and passing seasons in the stream of time? At least, he found some comfort in that thought. 

They had passed away from the cold storm clouds and already the Misty Mountains were visible below them, he exchanged a smile with Glorfindel who was upon Gwaihir along with Gandalf. 

The wind threw his hair and hood back and it seemed to grow warmer as the spring winds should be.

Elrond laughed with some mirth for the warmer winds from the west and Telperiel shifted in front of him opening her eyes lazily.

"Are we there yet?" she asked groggily.

"Almost, my little _nimoth." _he told her with a smile, "Almost."

*

Imladris.

The clouds were but a thin veil in the sky misting over the glow of the moon and yet spreading its brightness is a hallo upon the sky. Some stars shyly twinkled from under the slowly moving clouds and the Last Homely House seemed to glow among the dark leaved woven trees around it. Emerald moss made carpets upon rocky cliffs and on the forest floors accompanied by beds of flowers of endless colors and lilac trees released their sweet fragrance in abundance about the great and ancient oaks. 

Telperiel did not need her sight to perceive the splendor around her. The essence of various flowers and of the trees and moss and sweet breeze teased her scent and the sounds of trickling water from streams and rivers and fountains and the wind playing upon the leaves of the trees and echoing through the valley painted pictures in her imagination of where she was.

Elrond led her up through the paths he had come to know only too well smiling at the expression of pure wonder that filled her features.

But the sounds that she found most pleasing was the laughter and songs of the elves about the trees many who greeted Elrond and Glorfindel with joy at their return and placed garlands of flowers about Telperiel in welcome. She smiled, curious if elvish customs were different in different places for something shined about these elves, the same thing that shined in Elros and Elrond. 

"Welcome to your new home, Telperiel," Elrond told her as he led her to the walkways toward the great house, "Welcome to Rivendell, Imladris in the tongue of the elves." She blinked at him her expression only sheer amazement and after a while she managed a reply.

"This must be the most beautiful in all the world." She said deep sincerity in her tone and she smiled gratefully at both Elrond, and Glorfindel whose presence she sensed nearby. "Thank you!" She cried out and embraced them both and they in turn returned her embrace. 

Some of the elves nearby exchanged curious glances with a smile wondering how a mortal girl had met the two elven lords.

"I think though," Elrond said glancing at Gandalf who seemed a bit tired himself, "Now is a time for us all to get some sleep."

*

Glorfindel led Telperiel to her room and described it to her. It was spacious yet cozy at the same time with a large bed with a swan headboard and two large windows gave a view of the garden outside. She gave a deep sigh and feel upon the bed and almost fell directly to sleep. Glorfindel laughed lightly and tucked her into the woven white and green blankets. 

 "Goodnight, Telperiel." Glorfindel told her quietly and smiled as she mumbled a goodnight back.

For once, it seemed, Telperiel slept peacefully and no dark dreams nor perilous voices plagued her mind.

*

Elrond went to his library after he showed Mithrandir to his room. He stepped out into the gardens looking around. He gave a start when a pair of two strong arms wrapped around his shoulder from behind him but relaxed when he heard familiar laughter. "Father!" exclaimed Elladan with a smile on his face as Elrohir came in behind them. Elrond smiled and embraced both his sons and kissed them on the forehead.

"And where have you two been?" asked the elder elf, though he very well knew the answer.

"Teaching Estel how to use a staff, he's getting better at it each day." Elrohir told him. 

"Ah!" exclaimed Elrond another thought crossing his mind, "And where is Gilraen?"

"Over here." said a woman's voice lightly. She stepped into the courtyard wearing a dark blue gown her dark golden hair tied back in a single braid and a smile brightening her grey blue eyes. Elrond embraced her as well.

"Have you been well, my lady?" He asked her.

"Indeed," She told him laughter in her voice, "With Elladan and Elrohir keeping me an entertained spectator to their games I have been very well." The other two laughed as Elrond raised an eyebrow in curiosity to their joke, "And how has been your journey, my lord?" She asked him. Elrond sighed.

"The usual." He told her, "The Northern lands are no safer than our woods beyond the rivers."

"As we have expected." said Elladan with a sigh, "But let us not trouble ourselves with that yet, for the rangers have been keeping close vigil to the West and to the North and their news has been brought to our ears as well."

"That is true." said Elrond.

"But there is another question we have." Elladan said with a smile, "Who is the girl you brought with you?" Elrond sighed hearing the question.

"And orphan." Elrond replied honestly, "A blind orphan with an unknown past and a clouded future. Glorfindel and I have decided to keep her here for as long as need be until Mithrandir goes out to unravel the mystery about her."

"A mortal girl?" said Gilraen with some surprise as well as motherly concern. "How old?" 

"Fourteen years in mortal reckoning." replied the elven lord. Gilraen smiled at the thought of another mortal in Imladris. She did not have anything against the elves, on the contrary she loved them dearly, but sometimes she longed to have a mortal about to relate to.

"And where is she now?"

"Sleeping most likely." predicted Elrohir, "For I doubt after a trip through the skies she'd be awake for long." Elrond smiled.

"Yes, she is sleeping." Elrond said, "But I promise you may go and meet her tomorrow morning."

"I would be most happy to, my lord." Gilraen said with a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"Does this mean Estel gets a play mate?" Elladan asked. Elrohir laughed. Elrond shook his head and clasped the shoulders of both elves.

"If you can teach a blind girl to use a staff in her defense," Elrond told them seriously, "Then you will have my utmost respect as teachers."

Gilraen smiled, "That should be aught to see."

*

Telperiel woke the next morning and wiped the sleep sand from her eyes. Her vision was its usual blur but she could hear birds singing beyond her window as well as the smell of food: specifically toast, jellies, fruit, coffee, and tea and that her stomach grumbled at the thought. She yawned and stretched herself and looked toward the door as she heard it open. "Elrond?" she asked unsure.

"Nay, I am Gilraen, little one." said a woman's kind voice and Telperiel heard her smile, "I have come here to help you bathe and get you a change of clothes."

"Oh," Telperiel said and then minded her manners as Gilraen took her hands to lead her out, "Thank you,"

"It is a beautiful morning," Gilraen added, "And breakfast is being set up in the courtyard for us all, for I would bet that you haven't eaten something good in about a day, lass." 

"Just about." Telperiel told her honestly. Gilraen laughed and Telperiel liked the sound of her laughter for it reminded her of running stream waters.

"Well, you shall get plenty to it! And I would almost guess you would have the appetite of a halfling from the Shire at any rate." Telperiel blinked at her comparison.

"What is a halfling?" asked the younger one as they entered into another room and Telperiel could smell the got water.

"Why they are short mortals, smaller than dwarves, but they have the pointy ears of elves. I have never seen one for myself but Gandalf the Grey has told me some rather funny stories about them." Gilraen replied as she aided her in discarding her old clothings. Telperiel laughed suddenly trying to imagine such a creature. Gilraen smiled as she led her to the pool of hot water. "Watch your step." She added.

Telperiel sighed happy to feel clean. She submerged herself for a moment then came back up.

"You have beautiful hair." said Gilraen as she began to wash it. Telperiel smiled.

"Thank you." she replied. Another sound caught her ears, small footsteps nearby.

"It is nice to have another mortal lady here." Gilraen told her, "Sometimes I miss being among mortals, though I am very happy here and love the elves."

"They are kind." Telperiel said quietly.

"Indeed they are." Gilraen agreed. 

The little footsteps shuffled a bit. Telperiel was becoming somewhat concerned at this.

"Is there anyone here with us?" Telperiel asked and suddenly the sounds halted. Gilraen looked about.

"No. Why?" asked the elder lady. 

"I hear someone else in here besides us." Telperiel told her.

"Hmm…" Gilraen said standing up from her perch from the bath and looked around and Telperiel heard her move something.

"Estel! What are you doing here?" she admonished.

"I… uh… was looking for something…" came a small boy's voice. Telperiel raised both her eyebrows hearing the voice.

"Oh really? Or were you waiting for the elven maids to come bathe?"

"No!" squeaked the other in denial, "That's gross…"

Both Gilraen and Telperiel laughed.

"Well, then, now, we shall have to kick you out."

"But I didn't find 'him'!" exclaimed Estel.

"What, in ye gods, are you looking for?" asked Gilraen.

"My polecat." Gilraen groaned at the mention of the weasel like creature Estel had found for a pet.

"It is in here?" She asked looking about.

"I don't know." The nine year old shrugged, "He ran away from me this morning." His mother sighed.

"Well if I find him, I'll give him to you, be off now! I'm sure Elladan is looking for you." said Gilraen.

"But…"

"Shoo!" she laughed and closed the door. "I am sorry, that was my son Estel, he is always finding some new mischief." 

Telperiel smiled. "What does he look like?" She asked.

"Well," began Gilraen as she went back to work on her hair, "His eyes are grey as mine are but his hair is dark, like his father's and he is short for he is but nine years of age." Telperiel did not miss the hint of sadness in her tone but didn't press on with it.

"We found you a fair dress." said Gilraen after a while, "It is silver grey and matches with your eyes."

*

As soon as Gilraen had let him loose Estel sighed deeply and ran up the hall and began to turn a corner when someone grabbed him and picked him up, the waves of a maroon velvet robe smoting him. "Wou!" exclaimed the younger boy and then recognized the deep laughter that followed it. 

"And what trouble are you getting into now, Estel?" asked Lord Elrond turning him in his arms to face him. 

"What trouble?" asked the other holding on to the elf lord's gaze without flinching. Elrond smiled at him as he walked down through the halls.

"I heard your mother yelling." said the elf lord offhandedly. 

"Why?" asked Estel getting into a verbal game. Elrond raised an eyebrow at him.

"You tell me, young one." Estel shrugged and smiled.

"Why?" Elrond laughed.

"Don't give me that." Elrond told him.

"Why?"

"Why do you ask?" Elrond said in turn somewhat seriously and throwing the younger one off guard.

"Because…"

"Why?" Elrond replied with a sudden smile. Estel's eyes widened seeing that he had been fooled.

"That's cheating!" The other one exclaimed and wrapped his arms around the laughing elf lord. The boy looked up suddenly, "I smell food."

"So don't a lot of other people." Elrond said dryly. Estel looked at him mischievously.

"Yes, well I smelled it first."

"Really?" asked Elrond looking at the boy's smug look.

"Of course!"

Elrond laughed, happy to be home.

*

AN: sorry it took so long to put this chapter up. but its here! more to come! promise…


	8. Warmth of the Heart

Eye of the Ice Dragon

By Elarin

**LONG TIME NO SEE: **since fan fiction has been running into –ahem- technical difficulties I have not been able to post the continuation to many of my stories. Nah. I'm just procrastinating and getting through all the wondrous college-application-processes… ack…. Let me tell you, I haven't even started writing my essays but I'm burnt. Anyways, here's the next chapter.\****

**ANGST WARNING: **if you're the type of person who loves a beautiful happy ending, I'm warning you… there is no happy ending in this story. It's going to be terribly angsty.

*

Chapter 8 | Warmth of the Heart & Healing

_5 years later_

Telperiel sat on a stone bench beneath wreathing vines of white wysteria flowers their hanging blossoms releasing the fresh scent of newly opened blossoms and calling the warmth of spring. Elrond watched her from afar with some admiration. She had grown to reflect the beauty of the elven maids though she was mortal and Elrond guessed that some the past beauty and dignity of the line of Numenor ran through her veins as well.

Five years had passed. Five years had gone by and Imladris suffered no danger from her presence. Elrond suspected that the Witch King had been thrown off by the power of Vilya that protected the haven he had established long ago. Mithrandir had come to visit a few times to check up on things. Estel was growing to become a bright and clever boy and Gilraen had found a place to live out her days in Eriador, as she had decided that perhaps it was time for the future king to have some time away from his mother and learn to fend for himself under the tutelage of Elrond and his sons. 

Elrond sighed deeply. Gilraen did come to visit from time to time but the creeping signs of age were beginning to mark her. Her once golden hair was being dulled with a shade of gray and the youth of her face was beginning to fade away with small lines that Elrond hoped came more from laughter than from tears. News from the east was becoming bad as well. The dark power of Dol Guldur had not faded from Mirkwood and it seemed, from his correspondences with Thranduil, that it was only strengthening though as of late it had been quiet and Dol Guldur remained only a brooding shadow over the forests.

Elrond stepped lightly down the garden steps toward her. Although the puzzle of her identity and her origins had not been wholly solved Elrond found a strange comfort in her presence. When Celebrian died 

Elrond had found solace in Gilraen's presence, now that she had moved away, he turned to Telperiel for that comfort. __

_Not even an elven lord, _echoed Galadriel's voice in his mind, _such as yourself can suffer loneliness for too long._

He had always been gently teased by Celeborn, Glorfindel, and even Cirdan for being much too serious and much too worried.__

_Fall in love, Elrond! _Gil-galad teased in his memories when they were camped before the long march to Barad-dur, _You're too young to be so worried. Earendil was not so tense as you are._

Elrond managed a smile, something he seemed to have to practice. _Have the years been so cruel to me? _Perhaps, he should have counted more his laughter than his tears.__

_Sing then, sing and he'll hear you. He's part of the song now._

"Elrond, your steps are slow and cumbersome as if the world entire lies upon your shoulders." Telperiel turning toward him and squinting her eyes. Elrond smiled at her observation. Though she could not see things it seemed that the peace of Imladris had  somewhat cleared her visions that from shadowy shapes she now saw things as blurs from that last she described her condition to him.

"I was thinking." He said taking a seat by her on the stone bench.

"Of what?"

"The past, the present." He said with a shrug.

"The future?" She asked. Elrond frowned.

"I was once told not to dwell too much on the future lest it makes me ill with worry."

"It is just not as well to dwell too often on the past lest it makes you ill with sadness." She replied.__

_Wise words. _Elrond thought and he thought about them for a moment. He realized this was one of the many reasons he liked speaking with her. She always seemed to know the right things to say to him.

"And what of the present?" She asked him in her soft spoken tongue, it seemed to be a habit she always had, speaking softly as if sympathy poured from her to everyone else's worries.

"The present is quiet." Elrond said as he plucked one of the flowers from the vine above him, "and peaceful." A smile graced her features.

"Then keep yourself here." She told him, "And you will find that the present has yet to teach you of stillness as the world whirls about you." Elrond smiled and put the white flower in her hair.

"And what of you, _nimloth?"_ Elrond asked her affectionately, "You have been quiet today. You did not want to ride out with Elrohir and Estel? Or perhaps walk with Glorfindel and Neniual?" She looked down weaving her fingers in her lap.

"I too have been thinking." Telperiel said more quietly.

"What of, my lady?" He asked her. She looked up at her amused.

"_My lady?" _She mused, "I have never heard you call me that." He took her hands and playfully kissed them.

"Well now, I should start calling you by that," Elrond said, "For you have grown up to be fairest of the mortal maids in all of Endore!" She blushed fiercely pulling her hands away.

"You're being silly, Elrond." She told him.

"Nay, I am being truthful." Elrond laughed, "But you have changed the subject. You have not divulged your thoughts to me yet." There was a moment of silence.

"I've been thinking of the spring." She said softly, "I love the spring, and the summer; It seems that everything is alive. And here, in Imladris, the song is brighter warmer."

"I pray that it is meant to be." Elrond told her standing up and taking her hand and leading her for a walk through the woodland trails, "For if it pleases you, my lady, then it too pleases me." She smiled.

"You have been acting oddly as of late, Elrond." She told him.

"Oh?" Elrond asked, "How so?"

"You have been treating me differently than you used to." She told him. Elrond looked at her surprised for a moment. He, at least, had not noticed a change in his own behavior. _But because of her lack of sight she has gained 'insight' to other things._ Elrond smiled at her observation.

"You shall have to explain me this, my lady, for I have not noticed my change towards you." Elrond told her.

"Well, I am not the only one who has noticed." Telperiel told him, "Even Elladan and Elrohir think you have been acting odd. You lock yourself in your study for long periods at a time. Why it has been many days since I have spoken to you! Estel has been complaining to me that you never come out to play with him as you used to." She smiled slightly, "He has been eager to show you his mastery in archery." She added.

Elrond settled down beneath a great oak tree by a stream and she sat next to him, "As I said I have been thinking."

"You have not told me all your thoughts." Elrond looked at her fondly.

"You have a keen sense, Telperiel," Elrond said, "But how shall I word my thoughts to you?" He asked her. 

"Sing then." She told him. Elrond smiled.

"Long has it been since I have sang."

"And I still remember your voice." She countered, "And I would hear you sing." Elrond found her demand amusing.

"Would it please you, my lady?" Elrond laughed feeling mirth find its way to his heard, "To hear me sing?"

"Yes, my lord!" She teased in return, "It would!"

"Very well," Elrond replied, "But remember you asked." And he started a to sing in clear Sindaren.

*

"Deep within the forests old Beyond the emerald vales 

Away from ice and cold

There dwells a lady

Silver and fair

Of elven beauty, starlit eyes

And dark as nightfall is her hair

She sleeps beneath the jeweled sky

On a bed of phlox and clover she does lie

For where the river flows

And sings its song

The wind and the trees of her do long

For her soft voice with the water's tune

That calls the rising of the silver moon

And the golden hem of twilight

That quells the sorrows and the pains

The anger and the might

Of the rumbling clouds above her

Telperiel walks this land

The lady, silver-fair

Starlit are her eyes

Dark as nightfall is her hair…"

Elrond stopped his song partially surprised at what he was singing. He turned to face Telperiel who looked quite surprised herself. "I…" He began trying to find words for the reason why he sang those verses and from whence they came to him. "You are beautiful." He said softly though he felt awkward. He had not felt awkward in a long time and the feeling was refreshing and he almost welcomed it.

"Thank you." She said softly. But he heard something beneath it: wariness. Elrond expression fell.

"You did not like my song?" He asked so only her ears would here. She shook her head quickly.

"Nay, it was beautiful!" She protested, "It's just that…" She trailed off.

"What is it?" asked Elrond looking at her intently.

"When you sang your song," She said quietly, "You sang of your mother." Elrond blinked twice as if to blink away any confusion that lied before him but then he found her words right as always. He stared into her silver eyes that looked at him just as innocently as he had gazed upon them the first time in Ered Mithrin. She waited silently for his reply. Elrond looked out to the stream and gazed at the moss there.

"How did you know?" He asked quietly his gaze staring off elsewhere, deep within his memory.__

_A! Earendil! _Whispered a soft voice in a song of longing. _Onen i-urenlye... _

She looked at him in quiet thought, "The song, the way you sang it. There was sadness in your voice and a desire for warmth." She replied, "Like… a child… left behind." She said choosing her words carefully. Elrond managed a sad smile.

"Aye, you have chosen your words well." Elrond said, "You told me once you could learn from simply hearing a song. I now know that you read beyond a song and within it, _nimloth."_

"I pray you are not offended." She said carefully. Elrond clutched one of her hands and entwined his fingers in her kissing her on the forehead.

"Nay, I am not offended." Elrond said, "I find peace when I am with you, Telperiel."

"May I ask you a question?"

"Certainly." There was a short pause and then she continued.

"Do I remind you of her?" 

Once more Elrond gazed at her. Silver eyes and dark hair and face young yet carried with an age beyond years.

"Yes," Elrond said softly, "Even your demeanor reminds me of her at times. When you sing in your own tongue I hear heartbreak and pain and all the elves of Imladris too feel it. My mother used to sing as you do when my father left for his voyages. I was very young then but I still remember the tone in which she sang. Piercing notes that even made the sky rain with her longing for my father to return."

Telperiel sat quietly thinking of his words.

"I do not wish to bring sadness in a place so filled with joy," She said quietly turning towards him, "I will then make my songs brighter for you to listen to even in the winter's gloom that I do not like." Elrond smiled.

"You need not fear. Your songs are sad but they are filled with another kind of beauty that the elves do love. There will always be longing and sadness and every being, from a lowliest mortal, to the highest of elves has always something more to long for. Your songs, though in alien words they are to us, we understand them and that is why the elves of Imladris become silent when you sing. You sing of a pain we know all too well."

"That everything is beautiful in the world." Telperiel replied softly, "And that beautiful things fade."

"Yes," Elrond said helping her to her feet, "But since they fade away quickly we learn to appreciate them better for so short a time they remain with us."

Telperiel smiled.

"That is true and even with the autumn the trees always promise a spring after the cold of winter." Elrond smiled.

"Yes," Elrond agreed, "And a warmth that brings out perhaps not only the beauty of the flowers and of the world but a small beauty within ourselves for admiring it."

*

AN: Yeah, a short chapter. THERE WILL BE MORE! What do you think? 


	9. The Source of Winter

The Eye of the Ice Dragon

by Elarin

**Heh… if I ever get to the end of this tale there will be a thank you page for all you who have kept up with me in spite of my –ahem- procrastination… On with the tale!**

*

Chapter 9 | i-Eithel na Rhîw (The Source of Winter)

"Ada! Ada!" the cry was fearful and Elrond was immediately woken from his dreaming. Estel ran in looking frightened and disturbed, his face pale. Elrond put both hands on the boys shoulders looking at him with concern.

"What is it, Estel?" He asked the breathless boy.

"It's Telperiel!" He exclaimed, "She's all cold and she won't wake up and she's muttering strange things in her sleep that frightened me!" 

At hearing this Elrond swiftly made his way down the candle lit halls to her room only to find that Glorfindel had made it there first. He was rocking her still form in her arms softly singing the _linnods _of the praise to Varda. Estel followed close behind his grey eyes wide and worried, watching from the doorway.

"'Tis her nightmares, they are coming to her again." Glorfindel whispered. Elrond sat next to her and took her hand which was indeed cold, cold as ice.

"How can this be?" asked Elrond quietly. He was puzzled by this. Telperiel's nightmares usually came only in the winter, "'Tis not even Winter yet."

"Ada…" whispered Estel. Elrond and Glorfindel both looked to the boy whose gaze was looking past them in wonder. Both elder elves turned around and their gaze was locked for a long moment through the window.

It was snowing.

Glorfindel and Elrond exchanged questioning glances although neither of them had an answer. Estel was still staring outside confused.

"But how can this be?" asked the younger mortal bow looking at his elven step-father in wonder, "It's the middle of spring!"

_-maeandhwe ast anel calanweniel- _whispered Telperiel in her unintelligible tongue, her silver eyes opening, misted over by some vision. Then they rolled and they closed and she fainted.

"Ai!" exclaimed Glorfindel as she fell limp in his arms, seeming to weaken in a single moment.

"Lay her out!" Elrond ordered standing from the bed then he turned to the boy at the doorway, "Estel! Find Nerien and tell her to bring the herbs here!" The boy had already run off to comply. Glorfindel did as he was told his hand falling to her forehead where beads of sweat were freezing into a sheen of ice.

"She is cold, very cold…" Glorfindel said and then he rushed to light the fire in her room, "Elrond, have you ever healed such an ailment?" Glorfindel asked retrieving the fire wood as Elrond whispered calming things to her.

"Never," Elrond whispered turning to the golden haired elf as he rolled up his sleeves and as Nerien entered with the supplies, "Though I pray at this moment I shall be able to help her as best I can…" But his only thought at the moment was: _Where is Gandalf when I need him?_

*

"Oh my…!" said Bilbo Baggins as he reached to the window sill to grab the cherry pie he had baked. It was snowing heavily. "My petunias!" He exclaimed in surprise at the weather. It had taken him three seasons to finally be able to grow some fine petunias and now it was snowing.

"What is it Bilbo…?" Began Gandalf who had walked into his little dining room and then stared outside in surprise.

"Gandalf…" asked Bilbo turning around his eyes curious as he looked up at the gray clad wizard, "What is this queer weather in the middle of spring?! It is going to kill my daisies and my roses! And… my _petunias_!" He nearly wailed in sorrow. Gandalf swiftly rushed to put on his hat and he grasped his knarled staff, "Why! Where are you going Gandalf?" exclaimed the hobbit in surprise as he followed the wizard to his round green door.

"Pardon my sudden leave," said Gandalf turning to Bilbo, his face filled with concern, "But I am going to save your petunias."

And he was off.

Bilbo scratched his head watching as the wizard as he mounted his brown pony and sped off.

"Mr. Baggins!" came the upset voice of Vollie Dorfilhat who lived close by, "What trouble did your wizard friend bring this time!!!"

Bilbo quickly rushed back into his home slamming the door deciding he didn't want to deal with neighbors at this moment but as he gazed out the window at his garden which was beginning to ice over nicely he frowned.

"What trouble did my wizard friend bring to me?" He wondered mostly to himself.

He had a feeling that was going to be a tale to be told as well.

*

Telperiel, lasto bedh-nin, tulien ned galad… a soft voice called to her. 

The voice was faint, though familiar to her, warmth… she almost remembered it, warmth. But then an eye… a great blue eye wreathed in glistening ice and sparkling white scales opened itself to her and she was no longer where she had thought she was. Around her was a cave glistening with with icicles and snow, _her _cave, the place that had been her home for so long… and yet it never truly was her home… it had been her prison.

_-Avar enath hrive awl?- _whispered a familiar voice to her, like a crisp winter breathe _–umarth undine alian corathwenthil…- _Sadness overtook her then, and despair, as as she wept her tears were cold, flowing like winter streams.

_-an recthal umarth calanweniel…- _she answered, her voice small, filled with a terrible guilt for leaving, _-im vanar unth reiual…-_

She felt herself fading…

*

From far away a dark shriek pierced the northern forests in the ancient realm of Angmar silencing the winds and waters and all the creatures fled that heard it.

*

"She is growing delirious." said Glorfindel, "This is the worse yet her nightmares have been." Elrond replaced the warm cloth on her forehead. Over six hours had passed and he, as well as Elrond and Nerien stayed by Telperiel's side trying to wake her from her state.

"I do not think this is her nightmare alone, Glorfindel." said Elrond. She was shivering and muttering things in her unawakened state, "Something has been causing this…" He added staring out the window at the snowy storm outside, "Something linked with snow." As soon as Nerien left Glorfindel turned to him questioningly.

"The Ice Dragon?" Elrond shrugged at his sugestion and Glorfindel raised an eyebrow, "How do we even know if such a thing still lives? Would killing it end her pain?" He asked. Elrond stared at her pallid complexion as her tears stained her cheeks. He gave a deep remorseful sigh clasping his hands around her cold face and whispering words of warmth. 

But she did not respond to him.

The vision of Celebrian dying by the Bruinen suddenly came to Elrond's mind. _And you were helpless, _came the voice of his conscience, _you could not heal neither her heart nor her spirit that was broken by the fires of hatred and the iron of spite… _Elrond closed his eyes feeling the memory of that despair suddenly surround him, but then her voice came to him out of memory, blue crystaline eyes sad, but unafraid, and her long silver hair tousled in a pool around her.

_Namarie, Eldatan, u maruvan si nu tapulva…* _Celebrian whispered to him her countenance shining as moonlight, her gaze holding his as she managed a soft smile, _an elye tuluva! Nai Vardo eleni ilye lumenn enomentienvo siluvar! Namarie…* _

Elrond opened his eyes and did not realize he was weeping.

Glorfindel's hand clutched his shoulder knowingly as the Halfelven wiped away the stray tears.

"This is not the same," said Glorfindel softly to his friend, "Telperiel shall live, and Celebrian still lives…"

"Elrond!" came a voice filled with urgency and surprise.

It was Gandalf.

Elrond stood from his spot suddenly and Glorfindel also looked up. The Grey Wandered was covered from head to foor in ice and snow and had it not been for the situation both elves would have found it a comical sight indeed. But at the moment, they had no time to ponder such a amusements. Ganadalf came quickly to Telperiel's bed side and put his hand to her head, closing his eyes, as if sensing for something.

"What ails her, Mithrandir?" asked Elrond quickly, "Can you heal her?" _For I certainly cannot, _he thought defeated looking at her limp form.

When Gandalf opened his eyes he looked crestfallen.

"This is not a matter that needs healing…" the wizard said slowly staring at Elrond, his voice heavy with ill news, "It is a matter of cutting chains, one linked of darkness and the other of ice."

*

They sat together by the fire of Telperiel's room, Nerien bringing Gandalf a hot drink. Elrond sat at the edge of Telperiel's bed watching the wizard curiously and pondering his words, "Your words are puzzling, Mithrandir, but it seems to me that they are ill news." The Halfelven said slowly, "And I am not fully sure I want to hear the explanation." All their faces seemed grim when they glanced over to the weak form on the bed.

Gandalf looked down wearily placing his cup on the table, "It will not bode well either way," He told Elrond reading his heart, "Neither for you if she dies, neither for her if she lives."

"I do not like these riddles." said Elrond his voice low with anger and concern, "Pray, speak plainly." Gandalf gave a long sigh in surrender.

"Very well," replied the wizard, "Perhaps I can help you fit the missing pieces to her tale, for I would guess you would both like to hear of it. Long ago there was a Numenorean lord at the side of your brother, Elros Tar-Minyatur, and his name was once Narquelion and he was once one of the greater lords of Andunie." He began. _Narquelion? _Strangely enough the name sounded vaguely familiar to Elrond's ears. Both elves continued to listen and Gandalf weaved his tale.

"Narquelion became an ambassador from Numenor to Middle Earth, he especially visited Fornost, and Lindon during the early years of the Second Age." Gandalf gave a deep sigh, "But early on Sauron came to meet with him and Narquelion fell into Sauron's web of deception long before any of the other Numenoreans had to deal with."

Suddenly Elrond remembered…

*

FLASHBACK

*

"Who is that?" asked Elrond from a balcony in Gil-galad's fortress mansion in Lindon as he gazed down at the Numenorean clothed in red velvet and golden regalia his silver eyes shining brightly. He had long dark hair and a short beard and his face seemed set in a noble seriousness. Gil-galad sighed then frowned at the mortal below greeting some of the elven counselors.

"He is Narquelion, one of the ambassadors of Numenor, one of the great lords of Andunie, he is also a counselor to your brother I believe," Gil-galad said but he narrowed his eyes at him, "But he has changed much in the past two years. He has become strangely arrogant." He said mostly to himself.

Elrond cocked an eyebrow. "Aren't most mortals as such?" Gil-galad shook his head at his friend.

"Not all," said the golden haired elven king his gray eyes looking down at the regal mortal figure before, "But there is something about this one that troubles me, I don't know what it is…" He shrugged, "Perhaps I am becoming old and starting to brood like Cirdan."

At this Elrond laughed.

"I don't think so."

*

END FLASHBACK

*

"He had been unmarried up to the point where he spied the daughter of Lord Sulramon, Lady Elentinwe, who at the time was wed to Prince Taristarion, one of your own distant kin. By foul betrayal he had Taristarion murdered and took Elentinwe as his bride and by her he had two sons, who also gained a strange long life." Gandalf said, "He had married late, in the year 432 of the Second Age, only a few years before your brother's death." Gandalf paused for a moment before continuing.

"By some dark boon of Sauron, long before the crafting of the rings of power, Narquelion out lived your brother and many thought it strange, though others simply decided it was some blessing of his descendency to have long life. He meddled deeply in the affairs of the Numenorean court and under Sauron's control he managed to start to weave some of the many lies and treachery there which would be the basis for the downfall of Numenor." Gandalf said his voice growing sad. "When Tar-Minastir took the scepter Narquelion had gained a high status in Numenor supporting the king. Elentinwe had long been since dead at this time and Narquelion had reached nearly his 2nd millenia of life." Gandalf frowned, "At this point he had attained one of the Nine Rings of Power given to mortal men, he had been given the one set with a blood red ruby and instilled with the power and craft of Sauron. Few could stand to be with Narquelion and yet through the power of Sauron, and his own treachery he married once again, a fair lady called Silmeriel who dreaded him, but because of her father's loyalty to the king she was betrothed to him. She begot Narquelion a daughter, whom she named Silme, and she was born during the corruption of Numenor when the Nine Lords of Andunie who wielded the wings used their powers of invisibility and betrayal to commit treason against their own."

Elrond took the brief moment to interrupt him, "But if Silme was born nearly two thousand years after Elros died how is it that she remembers him?" Gandalf sighed.

"That is another puzzle altogether." Gandalf told him, "But listen to the rest before you ask for the rest is still a long tale… As you know the Nine rings twisted their wearers to soon fade and become immortal and terrible wraiths which they are now. Narquelion could not reverse what had become and he was thrown under Sauron's will forever, but he was not so quick to surrender what he had gained in his mortal life before sundering to the call of the One Ring that drew him to Middle Earth. He took with him his daughter, which he had held some selfish affection for, and she had been only ten years of age."

"Of Narquelion another name is known, because of his service to Sauron the dark lord granted him a kingdom north of Eriador is a land called Angmar. The rest of that tale you know well but none knew that his daughter remained there… afraid… and desiring her mother… and wanting to flee far from the shadow that had once been her father." Gandalf said his voice weary, "In over confidence and glee at taking Eriador Sauron paid a visit to the Witch King and finding his daughter there he was amused that the wraith still insisted on keeping ties to his former life…" Gandalf suddenly stopped and there was a long moment of silence.

"And then what happened?" Elrond asked quietly seeing the heaviness in the other's eyes. Gandalf finally looked up and replied softly,

"Sauron toyed with her and the man who was once Narquelion could do nothing of it chained under his will by the Ring. Sauron had his way with her, tortured her, mocked her, and nearly left her to die in Angmar before returning to Mordor and he bid the Witch King to surrender the girl to slavery in Mordor or to kill her." Gandalf replied, "But Narquelion's anger and hatred for Sauron was the same anger and hatred he felt for himself at what happened there that night. He was too arrogant to let anyone deal that way with one of his blood line and some mortal pity lied in him yet in those days. He knew of the Ice Dragon in Ered Mithrin and in defiance of Sauron he left her there knowing full well that she would live forever if she remained under its vigilant gaze locked in the labyrinths of time."

The expression on both Elrond's and Glorfindel's at the end of the tale was a mixture of rage and sadness at what Gandalf told them.

"Her pain," Gandalf continued, "Is bred not only from that which was inflicted on her innoncence long ago by Gorthaur, but also by the long life which she was given. The Second Born of Iluvatar are not meant to have such a long life, their being is not meant to suffer it and neither do they have the will to deal with the sadness and terrible things of the world. She should have died that day in Angmar, when Sauron raped and tortured her. She should have been released from the confines of the world having suffered enough. But in his pride the Witch King commited a grievous deed more harmful to his daughter than he could ever imagine." Another pause. 

Gandalf looked in Elrond' s eyes as if conveying a silent message and then he answered, "Her spirit is dying." The grey wizard continued with his explanation.

"It cannot withstand the torment of long life and the spell of forgetfulness the Ice Dragon has laid on her not only cuts out the truth of what she suffered but dispells her being as well. She does not remember the torture nor the pain, for that reason when you came to her she was childish, as if she had not lived at all. She does not recall her life nor her name. She does not recall any existense before you found her. She is dying Elrond, her existense is dying, and if she remains longer in this world without knowing who she is her body shall fail her and her spirit shall break as if she never was." Gandalf finished in a whisper.

"What must we do?" Glorfindel asked finally his eyed filled with sadness, "Are you asking us, then, to kill her?" Elrond's eyes flashed at him with the idea.

"No!" Gandalf quickly protested before Elrond started arguing, "Absolutely not!"

Elrond turned his gaze to her again, and now it seemed she slept quietly, "Then how do we save her?" He asked quietly turning back toward Gandalf. Gandalf leaned back in his chair giving a deep sigh.

"She must remember herself," Gandalf answered grimly, "You must take her back. You must take her back to the source of her winter."

*

AN: wow… now what? So tell me, honestly, what do you think of this story so far? 

NOTES: *this comes from a Quenya poem written by Bjiorn Fromen it was printed in the book "An Introduction to Elvish" by Jim Allan

Elenya- the name of the island where the nation of Numenor was settled.

Gorthaur- the Sindaren name for Sauron, means something like 'The Terrible' (kind of, I'm taking this off the top of my head)

"Telperiel, lasto bedh-nin, tulien ned galad"- "Telperiel, hear my voice, come back to the light." (I borrowed it from the movie…)


	10. Wandering in Hopelessness

The Eye of the Ice Dragon

by Elarin

_author's note_: yay… I'm going to give you some more info on the exact time of the story… now that I've referenced Appendix B in LOTR and now that I've actually bothered to count out the years. And for those of you who haven't ever looked at the chronology I'm also telling you where Arwen is right now as well.

*

Chapter 10 | Wandering in Hopelessness

_The Log of Ithilion_, Guard Captain of the Northern Marches of Mirkwood

Orgilion, 22 Lothron 2939 S.A.* 

[Saturday, 22 May 2939 S.A]

In the year 2911 of the Second Age a Fell Winter came over the world that is known freezing all streams and great rivers, including the Baranduin, and casting a blanket of white over all lands from the southernmost of Rohan, up through Rhovanion, and west into Eriador bringing with it a stinging cold wind that carries a silent though strange voice that only elves may hear. White wolves had invaded the north of Eriador moving swiftly in great packs from Ered Mithrin letting out their ghostly howls and calling for something unknown to us.

Today, in the middle of Lothron [May] where once the world was warm and flowering a cold wind blew in from the north carrying the same strange voice and the white wolves of Ered Mithrin now sing out loudly their dreadful notes sounding almost… mournful. It has begun to snow and it is getting harder by every minute. I know not what ails the world to which spring has been interrupted by a frozen winter something that has not happened in twenty eight years. 

I don't know what triggered the strange storm then. I don't know what triggers it now. But the howl of the wolves and the frozen winds now haunt us something curious out of my memory of twenty eight years ago, and our guards too grow cold and weary beneath its white veil.

-Ithilion of Mirkwood

*

_The Journal of Arwen_, Lothlorien

Orgilion, 22 Lothron 2939 S.A.

What has come over the world? Everything is white… strangely beautiful… but so sad, in the middle of spring before the flowers have barely had time to bloom.

-Arwen of Imladris

*

"Telperiel," Elrond said softly the next morning, feeling her brow and was satisfied to see that it had risen somewhat over the night. He had not left her. "Telperiel," he repeated softly, "Wake up, my _nimloth, _you need something warm to eat." He told her quietly. His heart nearly broke as she opened her eyes, they were filled with sadness and at the thought of what Sauron did to her he shivered in anger.

"Elrond…" She said quietly her voice rasped and her eyes still heavy with a haunted sleepiness.

"I am here." He told her gently clasping one of her hands. Her eyes turned to the sound of his voice and he then realized that her vision had faded once again. Elrond then moved the tray of food by her bed, "Oh little one," He said kindly, "You need your strength, you must eat." She smiled sadly at him though some amusement sparkled in her eyes.

"Little one?" She asked sounding as if it pained her even to speak, "Why only a few days ago I was a lady… and now I am little again?" Elrond managed a smile.

"When I am taking care of you, then I suppose you are little again, but always a lady nonetheless." He replied helping her sit up, "How do you feel today?" Telperiel put a hand to her head.

"Faint." She whispered, "And I cannot see a thing." She added sadly. Elrond let out a deep sigh stroking some of the stray hairs from the side of her face looking at her mournfully.

"Were I better healer," He said sadly, "I would give you back your sight." She smiled at him then.

"You are the best healer in all the world." She told him softly.  Elrond was not able to smile, he felt as if he would cry for her at any moment so pained was he with the idea that she would die at the end of this, and that was precisely the healing she needed… and that she would remember her pain as well and the torment of her life.

"Will you need help eating?" He asked her managing to bring out the words as calmly as possible, but Telperiel was too observant not to miss the sad sound in his voice.

"You weep for me?" She asked knowingly turning to the source of his voice, "Why?"

_How can I make you understand? _He wondered sorrowfully closing his eyes for a moment. He forced a smile on his face to some how brighten the tone of his voice.

"I do not weep." He said, "Not as long as I see you better." Her expression seemed suspicious and she knitted her brows, he quickly changed the subject, "I care not if you have no appetite at the moment, you need food, warm food." He helped move the tray over her lap and she managed to eat by herself but she gave a deep sigh.

"Where is Estel?" She asked quietly.

"I'm here." Elrond looked out the door to see the mortal boy quickly come in and stay by her bed side. Elrond sighed, he was gaining elvish attributes all right, being able to move without a sound and being distracted by other things Elrond had missed his presence outside the door, "Are you feeling better Telperiel?" asked Estel looking at her curiously worry crossing his features. Telperiel gave a deep sigh.

"Indeed I am, Estel." She told him with a smile, "I hope you haven't been worryng over me, that's your step-father's job." Elrond managed a small smile in Estel's direction but the boy did not smile so easily in return. Elrond knew that the son of Arathorn sensed something was strangely amiss.

"I worry about you as well," Estel said, "Because you are one of my dearest friends and I would not leave your side either in spite of the fact Glorfindel attempted to drag me to bed." Telperiel managed a small laugh which caused Elrond to smile.

"'Tis a surprise you're still around then." Telperiel replied, "Because 'tis not easy disobeying Lord Glorfindel." 

"Well I've had a few years to figure out how." Estel replied musingly. Elrond's eyes wandered to the doorway where Gandalf walked by catching his gaze in reminder. Elrond gave an inward sigh.

"Estel, might you excuse us for a moment?" He asked his mortal foster son. Estel nodded.

"Get better, Telperiel." He said before he left.

"I shall." She replied and for a second time Elrond found that his voice might falter. After the door was closed behind Estel, Telperiel was the first to look toward Elrond's direction, "Why is your voice so heavy with sorrow?" she asked him quietly, "You need not worry, my nightmares shall fade."

Elrond swallowed in hopes to quell the dryness of his throat.

"You and I are going to make a journey, Telperiel." He told her gently almost unable to look at her in spite of her blindness, _even though she reads everything in my heart through my voice, _he thought. Her brow knitted in puzzlement, "And we are leaving tonight." He added.

"Why?" She asked confused.

"Mithrandir thinks he knows the remedy to your ailment, but we shall need to travel to find it." Elrond told her, _and I cannot reveal to her everything in danger of hurting her and yet all this hurts me more, _the Halfelven lord winced inwardly. 

"Where are we going?" Telperiel asked finished her soup. Elrond took the bowl from her.

"Far from here." He replied softly and stood up slowly walking away not able to provide anymore explanation nor able to meet with the expression on her face.

*

Glorfindel was already waiting outside for him leaning against the wall, his arms crossed as Elrond came out.

"You did not tell her everything." Glorfindel said. His voice carried no judgement nor accusation but he simply stated a fact.

"Could you?" Elrond replied as he walked past one of the former lords of Gondolin heading toward his library where Gandalf waited for them.

"I don't like this anymore than you do," Glorfindel whispered, "But now the decision is layed before us: She lives with us until the end of her days in Imladris where her soul will eventually perish in the end or we free her from her torment in this world and suffer a moment of torment ourselves. Is it so complicated a dilemna?"

Elrond stopped in the middle of the Halls of Fire that they walked through gazing at a tapestry in which one of the elven weavers had depicted the wheel of life, the way things in the world worked in strange harmony.

The center sphere was that of men who held the gift of death. The wheel outside the one of men was that of elves who had the gift of immortality. Then outside their wheel was the wheel of the Valar, fourteen with watchful eyes, each with their own power and will. Outside that wheel was the endless infinity of the black void and stars and the depiction of the power of Iluvatar above, and that of Melkor, apart from the Valar, below.* 

Elrond stared at it for a long moment thoughtfully.

"No," Elrond whispered still gazing at the tapestry then he slowly turned toward Glorfindel, "But the thought that I shall never see her again after this lifetime of hers ends so soon, nor in any second lifetime in Aman, is what makes it complicated." Glorfindel raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.

"You have fallen in love with her?" It was more of a statement on his part.

"Haven't you as well?" Elrond countered. Glorfindel gave a sigh.

"We cannot keep our mortal friends forever," He said quietly, "Even those we truly love, Elrond, and even now the decision was given to us by Gandalf and we both know what is best for her fate even though it will tear us with grief for many long days ahead. She needs release from the confines of this world, or she will literally fade away from all existense. At least with this hope, you may have the knowledge when you pass over to Aman that the will of Iluvatar has been done, that we have spared her from the non-existense Mithrandir told us threatens her, and know that somewhere beyond the world she shall find a bliss of her own."

Glorfindel's words seemed logical to Elrond, and he knew he spoke the truth, _even when the truth is terribly painful, _he thought closing his eyes.

_Are you no better than the Witch King then? asked his conscience, __For desiring that she lives out of your own selfish gain for her company in your loneliness? _

_No, Elrond thought, _I shall not do that… though I would see her live in happiness and not in the death that surrounds her.__

_He said that in his pride, _said his conscience, _he thought he would be protecting her from Sauron… he thought he would be taking her away from all the pains in the world by leaving her there… and now you ask to do the same at the cost of the life she will live beyond this one?_

Elrond glanced at the tapestry once more and it seemed to him that the depictions of the Valar seemed to come to life and it was the eyes of Mandos* that seemed to look at him warningly, a gaze unmoving and almost commanding, _let her go if you truly love her, _whispered a voice outside of his mind, _for true love and friendship in its purest form are always bound to sacrifice…_

"Come," Glorfindel said softly putting a hand on the raven-haired elf's shoulder interrupting his ominous thoughts, "Mithrandir awaits us."

*

Glorfindel and Elrond both greeted Gandalf in the library of the Last Homely House. Gandalf sat by the snowy balcony puffing on his twisted wooden pipe. "So what needs to be done?" asked Elrond a deep sigh in his eyes. Gandalf turned toward both of them putting out the pipe and tucking it within one of the pockets of his robe. 

"I have no doubt that the Witch King will try to seek her out again." Gandalf answered, "And there shall be the danger of the wargs in this storm," He added, "The White Ones who travel dangerously through the snow with swift feet." His gaze fell on Elrond then, "You shall take Silme to Ered Mithrin, and travel with her into the cave where you first found her. Meanwhile Glorfindel and I shall travel to Angmar to settle other matters."

Elrond raised an eyebrow, "What matters are these?" Glorfindel turned to him.

"For give me for not updating you last night. While you were on your vigil caring for Telperiel I was called out by one of the rangers from the north who brought ill news with them. A shriek of a single Nazgul was heard near Angmar and eight other calls from the south and the east answered to it." Elrond looked at him in shock.

"The Nazgul are coming here?" He asked. Gandalf frowned shaking his head in sympathy.

"We are running short on time," said the Grey Wizard, "While Glorfindel and I keep the wraiths entertained you must make your way up the snow paths back to where you found her, Elrond, only then can this all be settled, but I would strongly sugest you keep your sword close by you for I fear there may be some fighting before the end of this."

"Should we not have a party go with Elrond?" asked Glorfindel, "Would it not be safer?"

Gandalf shook his head, "So far it is only Elrond, you, and I who know of what Telperiel truly is. We cannot risk anyone else knowing. If news of this reaches outside the borders of Imladris this task is done for. Already do the elves of Mirkwood suspect a connection between Telperiel and the ice and snow. Already do they have a dreaded feeling that something dark still lies in Ered Mithrin. We cannot have so many knowing so I'd rather it be simply the four of us, let it be a hidden thing that history shall not speak of and that none should ever know."

Gandalf got up and slipped a silver chain with a round silver filigreed crystal pendant on it, "You shall take this with you, and wear it. It is a blessing from the House of Varda, given to me when I left Aman to come here, the dragon's gaze shall not affect you while you wear it."

"Thank you," said Elrond quietly looking at the star shaped white jewel then he looked up, "We have decided our itinerary, but you have not exactly explained to me what I must do once I reach the cave and meet with this dragon?"

At that moment Gandalf's eyes darkened in thought and his expression somber. 

"You shall know what needs to be done."

*

He had changed into his winter riding gear, his grey breeches and his dark grey boots embroidered with silver thread. He wore a long tunic and beneath it a white woven sweater and he slipped on his soft leather grey gauntlets and his arm guards. Elrond slipped on the belt that held his sword and his two knives and then threw his grey wool cloak over his shoulders looking out at the snow skeptically.

_How ironic, _he thought, _that we first arrived in Ered Mithrin in the deep of a winter storm and we shall return there under such conditions. _He slung his quiver over his shoulder and packed his bow with it. He felt terribly reluctant to leave, not only for the fact that what lied ahead would bring him great grief but also because he didn't like to leave the safety of his home. _Elrond the Lore Master indeed, _he thought dryly. But never in all his years had he seen this coming before him, to deal with a dragon.

"Are you ready to leave, Master of Imladris?" came Glorfindel's voice.

"Have you left everything with Erestor?" Elrond asked simply out of pleasantry. He knew everything was already done. Glorfindel nodded.

"Indeed, he has taken care of everything, no one shall know the purpose of our journey and Imladris shall be in safe hands." Elrond nodded.

"And Telperiel?" He asked more quietly.

"She waits for us outside," Glorfindel told him softly, "With Mithrandir, though she was upset at seeing the snow and she is fearful of something." Elrond sighed.

"How come it seems to me you're taking this far more easily than I am?" Elrond asked looking up at his friend. Glorfindel smiled gently.

"I have lived three lives, _meldir. _One in Gondolin in the First Age in Beleriand where I, young and fearful, went up against a Balrog and even as I say it now I don't quite believe I did that, and there I fell and died. My second life was within the Halls of Mandos where I saw my own life, saw the cries of others, and was judged. The third is now with you, in the Second and Third Age in Endore, where I have seen the rise and fall of men and where death and torment plagues us all with only a few moments of joy and I have come to understand better both the lives of elves and men. Elves who live to see everything, and men who I was scorned but I have learned to pity. The fates of both of the kindreds of Iluvatar are bound as much as it may not seem so and I think, sometime at the end of this all those who we thought we would never see again would one day return to us. I don't think darkness shall sway over the hearts of men even though many a time it may seem so." 

Elrond looked at Glorfindel thoughtfully especially how he did not wish to refer to it as 'the end of days.'

"And what think you, then," began Elrond, "of the fate of men?"

"I think," Glorfindel replied, "That men shall rise and fall many times before they finally understand what it is they are here to accomplish."

Elrond cocked an eyebrow, "Are you saying we know what we are here to accomplish?" 

Glorfindel smiled and Elrond saw a familiar amusement lighting in his old friend's eyes.

"Of course," Glorfindel replied, "We are here to make men laugh."

Elrond looked at him puzzled and Glorfindel laughed.

"I am telling you the pure truth of it," Glorfindel said, "Elves were created to see beauty and spread it, to bring joy where they walk and to remind the younger race that the world still has beauty and hope if mortals only open their eyes to see and their ears to listen."

Elrond sighed, "I suppose it shall be a long time before that should come to be."

"Ah! But the years fly swiftly for the elves, and when it does come pass you and I will wonder what ever happened to the yester-years."

"Come," said Elrond with a sigh at the thought, "Night is falling." Glorfindel frowned staring out the window.

"Aye," He replied, "And the snow is falling harder."

"All the more reason we should leave now."

*

They neared the three horses. Where Gandalf and Telperiel stood, both holding staffs but for two entirely different reasons. "Elrond? Glorfindel? Is that you?" Telperiel asked looking to the source of the footsteps crunching in the snow.

"Aye, 'tis us." said Elrond with a smile at seeing her up and well. "I am glad the cloak fits you well, my lady." Elrond replied. She reached over to hug both of them fondly.

"Shall I ride with you, my lord?" Telperiel asked amused looking at Elrond. Elrond managed a smile though he felt some tension radiate from her. She was indeed fearful. Elrond took her saff and packed it at the side of their horse horse.

"Yes, you shall, my lady." Elrond said quietly as he mounted his horse soon after Glorfindel mounted Asfaloth. He grasped her hand and helped her up infront of him. The snow fell heavy over their cloaks but the elven cloaks kept them warm. They rode out toward the Bruinen together in a slow gallop and as soon as they reached the Ford, which had frozen over, Gandalf stopped his horse and looked Elrond and Telperiel.

"Here is where we part ways," said the wizard, "I pray your journey shall be safe and the Valar keep you."

Glorfindel gave a similar blessing and they both headed on their roadtoward Angmar.

Elrond did not head off so quickly sensing Telperiel's silence as somewhat strange.

"Are you alright?" Elrond asked her concerned.She nodded slowly.

"Yes," she said quietly, her hand stretching out to feel the snow falling, "I'll be fine, you need not worry." She told him, "Ride on, Elrond! Where ever we go we go together!" 

Elrond stiffled the sigh that was bound to escape him.

"Aye, my lady," He said quietly, "We go together."

And so they rode forth, into the northern wild, toward Ered Mithrin where the Ice Dragon slumbered.

* 

AN: I know… I'm terrible… beat me! But just out of curiosity: What do you expect will happen near the end? I'm really interested in hearing this from all of you…

NOTES: the elven tapestry- think of the Wheel of Fortune tarot card except a lot more beautiful.

Mandos- for those who haven't read the Silmarillion, Mandos is the god of Judgement and rules over the House of the Dead.

The Valar- once more for the above type readers… they are the gods of the world

Iluvatar – the One Great God of the world also known as Eru by the elves, he is the creator of the world that is known and the third theme of the world which includes the end of days. He is the maker of the Secret Flame which the Valar ever strive to attain (I'm guessing this is something like buddhist enlightenment or something… but don't mark my words on it) 

TIMELINE NOTES:

[excerpts from Appendix B in dates referring to the chronology of the Second Age; anything in parentheses is part of my fic, outside of that is part of the cannon.]

2911 – the Fell Winter. The Baranduin and other rivers are frozen. White Wolves invade Eriador from the North.

2912 – Great floods devastate Enedwaith and Minhiriath. Tharbad is ruined and deserted.

2920 – Death of Old Took.

2929 – Arathorn II, Son of Arador, weds Gilraen.

2930 – Arador is slain by trolls. Birth of Denethor II, Son of Ecthelion II, in Minas Tirith.

2931 – Aragorn, Son of Arathorn II, born on March 1st.

2933 – Arathorn II is slain. Gilraen takes Aragorn to Imladris. Elrond receives him as a foster-son and gives him the name Estel (Hope); his ancestry is concealed.

2936 – (my fan fic: 'Telperiel' is found by Elrond and Glorfindel in Ered Mithren, travel to Mirkwood, return to Imladris)

2939 – (my fan fic: the 2nd Fell Winter) Saruman discovers that Sauron's servants are searching the Anduin near Gladden Fields, and that Sauron therefore has learned of Isildur's end. Saruman is alarmed but says nothing to the White Council.

2940 – (my fan fic is still taking place… of course there are no spoilers here so stop hoping ;)

2941 – (my fan fic has an epilogue) the events of "The Hobbit" takes place.


	11. The Voice that Sings yet Mournfully

The Eye of the Ice Dragon

by Elarin

_author's note_: yay… I'm going to give you some more info on the exact time of the story… now that I've referenced Appendix B in LOTR and now that I've actually bothered to count out the years. And for those of you who haven't ever looked at the chronology I'm also telling you where Arwen is right now as well.

*

Chapter 11 | The Voice that Sings Yet Mournfully

Their first night of riding northward had gone rather slow due to the many feet of snow that lay around them. Elrond had finally given in to surrender to the storm that night and they sought shelter in an alcove of a greast and ancient oak. Telperiel leaned against one of the great roots jutting out as Elrond fixed a fire away from the cold winds outside. He turned to her seeing that she was focusing on something.

"What is it?" He asked softly as he managed to light only a few of the embers. Her blind eyes turned to the source of his voice and she shook her head slowly.

"Nothing." She said in a whisper. Elrond frowned, her expression had faltered an in it he saw sadness. He moved next to her with swift and easy steps in the snow.

"Pray, speak to me, my lady, for short is our time and I would have you talk with me." He had not realized how much he had voiced aloud until a moment later and almost regretted, it but no suspicion marred her countenance only a gentle smile.

"A voice," she whispered, "A voice in the wind." They she focused once more on it and her expression grew somber, "It sings to me…" She added. Elrond watched her with some sad wonder. Part of him was beginning to piece together the other mysteries of Gandalf's tale and of Telperiel's former self. Although the keen hearing of the elves did not avail him Elrond wondered if perhaps the power of the Ice Dragon that lied in the cold winters and freezing of time sang to her.

_A voice in the wind, _he wondered quietly, _and what voice that only she could hear?_

"Elrond," She said, it seemed to him that she was suddenly fearful because her voice quivered, "Sing to me." She pleaded with a whisper her gloved hands suddenly seeking and clutching his own, "Please." Elrond paused at her request looking at her for a moment.

_And if I sing what shall you hear? What shall you then know of me? _But he could not bear to see her afraid, not now. Kindly he pulled her from into his arms and she leaned against him and his memory fell to another time another place…

*

FLASHBACK

*

"But I am afraid…!" said Arwen her large silver eyes looking at him. The little girl, who had crawled onto her parents' bed, wrapped her arms around her father, "When will momma come home?" She asked quietly her voice quivering, "When will she come back from Lothlorien?"

Elrond sighed but hugged her understanding how Imladris missed the presence of Celebrian who had gone to visit her parents for a short while.

"In a few days she shall return, my _undomiel_." Elrond said sleepily, "In a few days. What is it that you fear?"

"I had a nightmare," She answered her voice small, "About orcs…" and she trailed off. Elrond shivered at the word. "Ada, sing me a lullaby! Please! Momma always does when I am afraid!"

Elrond managed a slight amused smile. "'Tis have been long since I sang, _undomiel,_" he said quietly, "But I will sing, if only for you…" and he began a song weaved in the magic of Valinor.

"Come to me my little dreamer 

 past the gateways of gardens fair

by evendim and starlit shores

where there lies a realm called Valinor

and from whither where twilight sprung

from whither first the spring begun

the endless and unfading trees of silver

and golden crowned sunlit rivers

where grasses grow by mossy bank

and yet the moon had not let sank

his silver tresses weaved around

spells and words of enchantment abound

past the gateways of gardens fair

by evendim and starlit shores

in the realm called Valinor…"

_*_

END FLASHBACK

*

"In the realm called Valinor…" Elrond finished. By that time Telperiel fallen fast asleep at his side. Elrond sighed deeply. The snow had ceased and the clouds had moved away and the stars twinkled brightly from above. He looked down at her, her countanance held a soft and content glow and it seemed to him that she slet peacefully. Her dark tresses reflected the white glow of the snow and Elrond could not help but weave his fingers through her soft curls.

_Oh silent dreamer, _he thought mournfully, _how this shall all end for you… _He closed his eyes leaning his head up against hers and he too fell fast asleep, sad dreams taking him.

*

Elrond… _Elrond!_

A voice called him from afar. He was floating, in blackness, until the void shifted and beneath him was a sea of moonlit clouds. He looked up and he saw another figure, robed in deep blue and white, a silmaril on his brow. Memories flickered through him. His mother before the crashing waves when Maglor and Maedhros surrounded her.

His father's voice calling back to her from across the seas.

"Ada?" he asked, uncertain, the world seemed twisted around him and although Earendil's voice was the strongest about him he heard other voices, "Where are we?" 

The bright figure before him did not move his lips but Elrond heard his voice. _In Mandos, _he answered. Elrond looked around him, terrified, there were the ghosts of men grasping him, calling out to him, but by another name…

Elros.

But the scene changed, and then he was before darkness again, and the only person who stood before him was Earendil. _Why did you call me here? _Elrond asked his father puzzled. Earendil said nothing but turned facing another thing before the moonlit clouds. Mists swirled ahead of them and then a great white light shone through it and Elrond nearly turned away from the brightness but chose instead to hold his gaze for someone walked before him

He felt that he was looking into the mirror of his own being but he knew very well who was there before him.

It was the same face, silver eyes, and long raven hair, but he wore the red and gold of Numenor and he stood the same height as Elrond.

It was Elros.

_"Elrond," _it was his own voice speaking, in the voice of his twin, _"Elrond! Lasto-nin!"*_

_"Im lasto le, muindor,"* _Elrond answered in awe feeling strangely light and dazed.

_"Athan e daerond ned gwanneir im na tulien, lasto-nin, Elrond! Si e lumenn entulien an le car si demiar…" _Elros said softly clutching his brother's shoulders worry creasing his brow, "_E orecuio o lyanwen caita ned camland…"*_

His brother faded and another thing made its presence known.

A great blue eye with a black slit surrounded by white ice and snow stared straight through him and a hissing voice came from it.

_-Iarethando!-*_

*

Elrond awoke suddenly a violet shiver passing through him.

It was early morning, twilight, and the snow came down once again heavily amid the dark gloom. Elrond looked around him frantically.

Telperiel had vanished. 

His eyes looked ahead of him. The fire had been smothered, but no steps marred the newly fallen snow. Elrond was on his feet immediately his mind trying to recall the threads of his dream but in that moment of fear he could not. 

"Telperiel!" He called out.

Looking to his left he saw his horse gone as well, its reigns shredded and the only marks that lied in the snow was the wild steps of hoof beats and some trailing blood… and the trail moved northward.

Elrond clutched his sword at the sight but his heart was suddenly frozen, as if a cold hand had slutched itself around it, filling him with terror.

Where was Telperiel?

No sound registered in his ears, no voice, no step, no treading feet.

_You must beware of the wargs, _came Gandalf's warning in his mind, _the great White Ones who move swiftly and silently…_

Elrond cursed in Sindarin under his breath as he untied his bow and unsheathed an arrow and promptly notched it.

_Telperiel, _he thought anxiously, _where are you? Who has stolen you from my arms this night? _But up ahead he caught a scent. It was a wild one covered in snow. A warg. 

He followed it, his elven steps leaving no mar in the snow, but he heard a howl in the wind, and three more joined it.

The vision of the blue eye flashed in his thought and then his intuition spoke to him in its silent voice, _she is bound to him…a spell… a dark enchantment…painted in ice…weaved in the soft words of the song…_

"Telperiel!" Elrond called out loud and sharply in realization that he cound break that enchantment which was over her. 

He heard the faint sound of her whisper in the wind, and it was filled with terror.

"Elrond…!"

Without a second thought he followed her voice.

*

From far away Glorfindel caught the sound of the wolves in the air. "What do you hear?" asked Gandalf coming up next to him on his horse. Glorfindel looked out to the northeast, his blue eyes sharp with anticipation.

"One day into our journey," said Glorfindel grimly, "And I fear trouble plagues Elrond now. The wargs are by him." Gandalf looked at him broodingly.

"Worry not of the wargs," Gandalf said holding him back before the golden haired elf decided to run to aid him friend, "Worry abou the shadow that shall hear the wargs. We must keep to our path, Glorfindel, if the Witch King finds him are journey is in vain." 

Glorfindel frowned but nodded not liking the idea of leaving Elrond.

"Elrond can deal with the wargs," Gandalf assured him his expression vague, "And believe me they shall not touch Silme, at the order of another." He added ominously, "I fear in that irony some luck may come of it for them. Now come!"

And they went on beneath the brazing winds, toward Angmar, following the path of the Witch King.

*

She had fallen onto the snow, curled up, like a frightened child, her tears falling from her eyes heavily, staining her fair features. The three white wargs surrounded her their dark and icy eyes looking at him warningly as they bared the fangs on their large jaws and growled deeply at Elrond who stood meters away his bow and arrow in his hands. They were larger than the common wargs, with thicker coats, and a larger build.

_Get away from here, elf! _came one of their voices to his mind, a voice filled with wrath, _or we shall tear you limb by limb…_

"I shall not leave." answered Elrond his voice dangerously low and his eyes narrowed, "Until you surrender the mortal before you."

_We shall not! _said another. They circled Telperiel like vultures, like guards. 

Suddenly, with a silent movement one of them had managed to lunge at Elrond… from behind, without the elf lord's eyes catching it.

But Elrond moved faster unsheathing one of the long knives in his belt and stabbing it into the warg's open mouth which was about to clutch his throat. The white wof backed off his mouth bloodied but he growled more angrily now and the other two also made for Elrond moving more swiftly than the normal wargs he had dealt with.

Elrond was thrown back, one of them had clutched his cloak and threw him easily hard against a tree. The elf lord cried out through clenched teeth still clutching his knife as another made for him and Elrond slashed its fore arm and it backed away.

But the three then made another attack as they all luncged for him simultaneously, beared jaws and foul faces twisted in bloodthirsty wrath.

Elrond cried out as the larger one with the bloodied tongue clamped down firmly on his arm, the others were about to do the same when something stopped them.

A long a sharp note broke the sounds of fury by the three wargs. It broke into the early and dark morning echoing through the forest, a sad and lonely song and Telperiel sang it her eyes reflecting her terror as she gazed upon Elrond in grief.

The wolves released the raven haired elf whining and turning away from her.

The song was mournful… and yet strangely it was not her song.

Elrond clutched his wounded upper arm leaning back against the tree watching her feeling himself tear apart from inside because of the sadness in her voice, which was sung in a tongue unknown.

The wargs took one last wary glance at Elrond before they ran off but their lord was not so quick to leave his thoughts.

I shall return to you, came his hateful whisper, and I shall have your throat… 

But Elrond heard not his threat his eyes on Telperiel who was now a wretched by beautiful sight all at once her song shifting the snow about her, shifting the mists, _as if I have walked into a dream…_

And then he understood her song and before him he was in a cave of glittering ice and mithril, cast in the wayward beams of moonlight. It's halls shimmered and glowed in starlit beauty even though everything within was cold… even a coldness built within himself… a dreamy… and sleeplike… forgetfulness… 

_As if you have never lived, whispered a strangely familiar voice, __as if you have never suffered the pains of the world, nor have you ever laughed, nor loved, nor felt anything…_

A numbing cold.

When Telperiel finished her song, about an hour later, she looked around frantically her hands, scratched and bleeding, seeking him. "Elrond?" She said sadly her blind eyes filled with tears, "Elrond are you here? Please…" She whispered fear in her voice.

Elrond looked up from his daze his eyes still on her but he was returning from another place and then suddenly the pain shot up his arm as he returned to reality.

"I am here." He said painfully.

"You are hurt." She said, her voice filled with dismay. She came to him, slowly limping and Elrond noticed a strange thing.

"Is that not the leg I healed?" He asked her looking at her curiously forgetting his own pain for a moment.

"I…I…" Her voice shook, "I don't remember…" Elrond closed his eyes a moment.

_All that happens this day bodes ill, he thought, __the journey ahead shall not go well. That feeling did not leave him for a long while._

"Elrond?" she whispered clutching his shoulders. As he looked into her dead silver eyes he saw the reflection of terror and pain, and guilt, a heavy guilt.

"It was not your fault." Elrond told her softly. She shook her head.

"Nay, this is my fault…"

In spite of his bleeding arm Elrond hugged her tightly.

"My little _nimloth," He whispered holding her closely and he felt her weep against him and he closed his eyes a moment and made a vow to himself, _I shall not lose you…__

As if her heart had opened to him her voice echoed in his, _I know…_

*

AN: I'm sorry 'No Name' I'm afraid your request might be denied… but I'll entertain and alternative ending for you. So what do you guys think so far? Please review! o_~ toodles, Elarin

*

TRANSLATION from Sindarin: Some of which are wrong…

Elrond! Lasto-nin! – Elrond! Hear me!

Im lasto le, muindor. – I hear you, my brother.

Athan e daerond ned gwanneir im na tulien, lasto-nin, Elrond! Si e lumenn entulien an le car si demiar…- Beyond the great halls of death I come to youm hear me, Elrond! Now the hour has come for you to make a choice!

E orecuio o lyanwen caita ned camland…- the life of another lies in the palm of your hand…

TRANSLATION from the Hidden Tongue of the Ice Dragon/Song of the World:

Iarethando! – He Who Claims What Is Mine!

*


	12. The Seven Stars of the North

The Eye of the Ice Dragon

by Elarin

To Arabella Thorne: thank you very much for your review! I am beyond flattered and abashed and I have I find myself at a lack of words (ironically) in reply to you! Thank you! -_~

Emmica: you never did abandon this story did you? (amazing after that long period of procrastination of mine…) I wonder where Lady Harlequin's been? o_~ I love you gals!

On with the fic…

*

Chapter 12 | The Seven Stars of the North

Under the glowering icy trees crowned by starlight on a moonless night only the steps of Gandalf crunching through thick ice and snow echoed through the forest for Glorfindel moved like a soft breeze disturbing little that was around him. The storm had ceased and the world had fallen into a frozen moment of eerie silence only the momentary hoots of owls breaking it.

Glorfindel helped the Maia* climb through the harder paths but even so the Grey Wanderer needed a moment to rest since his mortal body was bound to mortal limits. So they rested a while atop a hill over looking the still and frozen Hoarwell River and the faded shadow of the Ettenmoors ahead of them.

"Elrond and I have never gone beyond the Ettenmoors," Glorfindel said softly after a while turning to Gandalf who had taken a moment to light his pipe, "Last we had come here we had crossed up the source of the Hoarwell and made our way past the Langwell and the Greylin." Then he shuddered at the thought of going beyond the frozen passes of Hithaeglir. 

Elves were not fond of ice nor temperatures too hot nor too cold. Glorfindel recalled the tales of the journey of Finrod and Galadriel through the frozen wastes of Helcaraxe in Beleriand and how many elves had died of heartbreak and despair surrounded by the endless winter and frozen howling winds…

"We are heading to Carn Dûm." said Gandalf breaking Glorfindel's introspection, "To the old realm of Angmar, to the broken tower… where the Witch King rests when he is not in Mordor." Glorfindel turned to the old wizard warily disliking the thought.

"Even mortals do not tread through what was once Angmar, Mithrandir." Glorfindel said his sky blue eyes focused on him, "By which way do you intend to take us? The Rangers of Eriador have reported fell things which are bred of that place."

Gandalf's dark eyes turned ahead as he looked at the wide and frozen wild of northern Eriador, much of it untamed and unexplored. He finally gave a heavy sigh, "The center path through the forests between Amon Sûl and the Hoarwell are thick and long in taking but we may find help from the Rangers if we walk along it and just as well we may meet with trouble from stray orcs and trolls. The swiftest path would be across the Ettenmoors but what lies beyond there I know little of, we shall face the barren and haunted hills of the Mountains of Angmar and there a many wargs, white and black, throughout that dark valley, but if we take the shorter route we may cut the Witch King and his minions off before he reaches the pass over the Misty Mountains toward Ered Mithrin." Gandalf said quietly, "and he may meet with Elrond on his journey sooner than expected."

Glorfindel turned to him partially surprised at what Gandalf had told him, "If the Witch King heard the wolves the night before doesn't he already head in their direction?"

Gandalf shook his head puffing on his pipe idly.

"He may be wroth but he is not impulsive," Gandalf replied, "The Witch King is no blood thirsty battle lustful orc, Glorfindel, he was made head of the Nazgul because of his cunning and his dark patience almost likened to that of Sauron." Gandalf said more quietly, "He will not go off so soon. He knows Elrond is with her and he knows also the White Wolves shall guard her and they too seek her and he shall wait for an oppurtunity to present itself before he goes to to snatch his daughter away."

Now Glorfindel looked at the other in puzzlement, "Do you mean the White Wargs are his enemy?"

Gandalf nodded, "They do not get along with the black ones. The white wolves of the frozen lands are not under the dominion of Sauron, they are fierce and they are wild and they have no liking for elves, men, or dwarves, but they also have no liking for Sauron nor his minions. They are under the sway of another: The Ice Dragon."

"What a puzzling situation this is, Mithrandir." Glorfindel told him mildly, "White wargs who are our enemies, but are also the enemy of _our _enemy. And this Ice Dragon? To whose side does it belong?"

Gandalf stood up putting away his pipe and wiping the snow off his ash colored robes, "_That_ is still to be accounted for," Gandalf answered, "Although it was formed by the cold terror and ice of Morgoth I feel there is more to this creature than meets the eye." Glorfindel raised an eyebrow.

"That is what I tell Elrond of _you _many a time," the golden haired elf said wryly. Gandalf managed a smile, "So what path shall we take?" Glorfindel asked. Gandalf clutched his staff looking out to the Northeast and then to the Northwest.

"It seems to me that the stars point our way," Gandalf said, "For Valacirca* rises to the Northwest. Let us hold to the hope that the Witch King shall not leave his abode so soon and perhaps on our way others may be willing to aid us."

*

Meanwhile…

*

The winds were bitter. Telperiel held on to Elrond's arm as they trudged wearily through a frozen pass in the Misty Mountains. Although the storms had ceased it seemed that the winds only became colder, sighing past them like a frozen breath from the east. Their cloak, though elven woven, did not seem to be able to hold away such a cold wind. Telperiel stumbled in the snow and nearly fell until Elrond caught her. Her expression seemed to become weary, older, although her countenance remained young.

"Telperiel," Elrond said looking at her wretched form sadly, "Let us stop for a while, you are weary." 

"I…" She began protests but it faded into an untillegible mumble as she collapsed against the fluffy snow beneath them. She moaned quietly in pain. 

"What ails you, my _nimloth?_" He asked her quietly hugging her close to him.

"I feel terrible, Elrond…" Telperiel said quietly, "Inside, everything is crumbling. Outside… my leg stings as if it bleeds and yet no blood falls from it, my hands are scratched and bruised and yet I do not remember how they came to be that way and my arms…"

Slowly she pulled up her cloak and her sleeve and Elrond looked at her aghast. Dark bruises marred her arms and bloody scratches as well… _as if she had been fighting, _Elrond thought grimly. 

_Sauron had his way with her, tortured her, mocked her, and nearly left her to die, _Gandalf's voice echoed in his memory,  _She should have died that day in Angmar, when Sauron raped and tortured her… She should have been released from the confines of the world having suffered enough._

_Her suffering is returning to her, _came another voice, the one which Elrond could not place in his mind, _it tears at her being, the flame imperishable within her perishes…_

Elrond shook with rage at the voice, _And what would you have me do? _He asked in his heart as tears of helplessness fell from his eyes, _how would you have me heal what I cannot heal?_

There was a long moment of silence and Elrond realized he was shaking.

"Elrond," She whispered sadly looking up at him, "I want to go back to Imladris, something is terrbly wrong… you are not well… I am not well… let us go back… please.." Her own small pleading voice faltered. 

_I love the spring and the summer_, the sound of her voice once joyful returned to him, _in Imladris the song is brighter, warmer…_

Then the other voice, stronger and more commanding: _Would you become like him? Keep her out of your own selfishness at the cost of her being?_

No.

True love, in its purest form, is always bound in sacrifice, and it was the eyes of Mandos on the tapestry that came to his mind, and then the eyes of his brother sad and calling out to him. 

Elrond closed his eyes feeling his warm tears stinging him against the cold of the world, "I am sorry, Telperiel," He said in a whisper, "I cannot take you back. Healing you requires more than what I can give."

They sat in the thick snow for a long while hugging each other in a strange, though vague, understanding with the stars their only witness.

*

"Where are you going?" asked Estel as he watched his two elder foster brothers swiftly change into their riding boots and belt their swords and long knives around the waists os their thick winter tunics.

"Out," said Elrohir his face serious, "We have something to do." The younger child of the Dunedain knitted his brow.

"But you just arrived today!" Estel exclaimed looking at them fitfully. As soon as Elladan tied his cloak he came bent down the boy's level sympathetically.

"Indeed," said the older of the two brothers, "But duty calls to us again and we must head out even though we ourselves are unsure of where we are going." 

"We promise we shall be back as soon as we our done." added Elrohir.

"But 'Rohir! That could mean forever!" The boy whined.

"We are sorry Estel!" they said rushing past him toward the stables.

"But Ada has gone as well, and Glorfindel! As well as Telperiel and Mithrandir! Where is everyone going!?" The boy exclaimed after him.

"We don't know!" Elrohir called out after him, "But we are soon to find out," He said more quietly to his brother.

As soon as they disappeared Estel stood in the center of the candlelit halls of the seemingly empty House of Elrond looking sadly to where they left.

"Why do I always get left behind?" He mumbled in dismay. A pair of hands laid softly on his shoulders startled him and he looked up.

"You're time too shall come, Estel." said Erestor smiling down at him playfully his grey eyes twinkling, "When shall have your own adventures."

"But why does everyone have to have them without me?" Estel asked crossing his arms and sulking. Erestor kneeled down to his level something sad flickering across his eyes.

"Oh Estel! Not all adventures bring good things!" Erestor said quietly and then smiled, "Besides, your mother would have a fit if she found out Lord Elrond let you out on adventures at this age."

"But I'm old enough!" Estel argued his eyes wide. Erestor laughed lightly.

"Indeed," He said patting his cheek good naturedly, "Not a hair on your face yet…"

The boy looked up somewhat confused and his hands immediately went up to his face.

"Hair?" Estel asked, "I'll grow hair on my face???" He looked at Erestor shocked and Erestor could not help but laugh loudly at the boy's expression.

"You have been too long among elves indeed!" Erestor said mirth on his expression, "Come now, let us amuse ourselves, shall you have me for a game of chess, my lordling?"

Estel raised an eyebrow suspiciously, a habit he had gained mimicking Elrond at times, "But you always let me win!"

"Very well," said Erestor, "This time we shall play fairly, and I won't let you win and you shall have to win based on your own skills."

"Alright!" Estel exclaimed and they ran toward the Great Room where the fireplace flickered warmly as snow lightly fell outside the Last Homely House.

*

Elladan and Elrohir rode fast and swift northward past Trollshaw on the backs of great white steeds that seemed to blend in with the snow. "Where do you suppose they have gone off too?" Elrohir asked halting his horse and looking around for any clue that may lean them. The two elven sons of Elrond looked around in dismay. The snow that had fallen the night before had covered up any tracks that could have remained.

"Erestor knew little of their leaving," said Elladan, "But he knew it had something to do with Telperiel and they were traveling northward."

"Telperiel?" asked Elrohir looking at the other curiously, "Snow in the middle of spring…? Telperiel's nightmares during the winter…? There is a connection here I think, though I do not know what it is." Elladan nodded.

"I had a feeling Ada and Glorfindel were keeping something to themselves when they came back from Mirkwood." Elladan said though he held no accusation in his tone, "I think we should travel north toward Amon Sûl. If any should know of their wanderings Halbarad and the Dunedain shall." 

Elrohir nodded in agreement, "Toward Amon Sûl it is then. I feel that they shall not be far from us if we head without stopping." Elladan grasped the reigns of his horse.

"Then let us ride!"

*

"Duck!" Halbarad shouted as a stray orc arrow landed by his ear. The Ranger cursed in his own tongue and came down next to his companion. 

"Where in Mandos are these creatures coming from?" the grey haired Ingmar muttered. Halbarad shrugged but then hit two arrows in the direction of the orcs, "They move in troves…!" the older ranger exclaimed back to back with him.

"Need we argue this now?" He said clutching the older man's hand and pulling him out of the way as an orc leaped down hissing between them. Halbarad took no time in dodging its blow and beheading it with his long knife.

"I didn't start any argument!" Ingmar hissed over the commotion of foul creatures around them. The grey haired man growled at the twisted face in front of him then parried its attack tripping the orc with his spear then killing it. "First snow! Then packs of wargs! Now this! I wonder what new devilry next?!" Ingmar exclaimed.

"You talk to much during a fight, old man!" Halbarad shouted over him killing too more orcs.

Ingmar laughed in spite of their predicament.

"Aye! I'm praying for some famous last words!"  
In one swift stroke Halbarad killed two more then grasped Ingmar's arm as they turned to flee for more were coming after them, "I pray you won't have them any time soon because I still need you at my back!" the younger Dunedain said as they stopped for a moment catching their breath.

"Are you so quick to… curse!" Ingmar exclaimed.

"Curse?" asked Halbarad cocking an eyebrow, "What are you…?" But as he glanced back two glowing yellow eyes and a bloody jaw leaped down toward him. Ingmar pushed Halbarad out of the way dropping his spear and unsheathing his sword.

"Back you dog!" Ingmar cried out holding his sword before the black warg.

"Why don't youjust  tell him to sit?" Halbarad hissed from between clenched teeth as he rolled over in the snow and got up unsheathing his own sword. The black warg growled fiercely and lunged at them. Halbarad and Ingmar barrel-rolled beneath it standing up and taking their guard again until several other foul voice hissed behind them, one of them jumping on top of Halbarad's back and the Ranger felt the clammy slimy cawed hands seeking his throat…

Suddenly it fell.

Both Rangers turned to see a golden haired elf jump down from seemingly nowhere his blue eyes flashing and his sword shining in the early twilight. In movements too fast for even Halbarad's eyes to see he checked the warg and some of the more threatning orcs, many of which had retreated at the sight of him. 

It was all over in a moment.

The black wolf lay dead, his throat slashed and seven orcs lay dead, the others had flown into the darkness of the wood.

"I say," said Ingmar scratching his head, "Now we have elves raining for the skies! I haven't seen anything like that since… I don't remember when." Halbarad suddenly recignized the elf who was now idly wiping his sword.

"You are Glorfindel? Are you not? Of Elrond's House?" The golden haired elf smiled up at the man sheathing his sword in it's scabbard as he held out a hand.

"Indeed," came another voice, and walking forward from afar was Gandalf the Grey.

"A wizard!" exclaimed Ingmar with a grin sheathing his own sword and picking up his spear, "What luck!"

"Well met, Halbarad of Eriador," said Glorfindel in common tongue. Halbarad let out a sigh of relief and a smile.

"Well met, to you, Master Elf! Well met, indeed!" Halbarad said, "And to as well Gandalf! Seems to me that luck goes where you go!" The old wizard smiled at them.

"Oh yes," added Halbarad, "And this is my companion, Ingmar!" He said introducing them. Ingmar gave him a wry look.

"You know, my boy, lack of memory is the first sign of aging…" and he turned to the elf and wizard and gave a gallant bow, "Well met, sirs! We would give you a homely welcome, had we a home," Ingmar told them, "But the best we can offer you is a warm fire, some news, and a good mug of ale and plate of dry bread."

"Sounds like better fare than what we've had the last day," said Gandalf thoughtfully glancing at an amused Glorfindel, "News! We would hear of news though and greatly be honored to join you, Rangers of the North!"

*

AN: this plot is getting interesting… I didn't even expect the Rangers, nor Elladan or Elrohir to get involved… I suppose they wanted some fame in this tale! Ah well… a thickening plot is always good… o_~ But the culmination of it all shall be the best part yet!

*

NOTES: Valacirca – (a.k.a. the Big Dipper, the Great Sickle of the Valar) The Seven Stars that Varda threw into the Northern skies as a warning to Morgoth who had taken abode in Arda.

Maia – Gandalf's true form, a high spirit of the people of the Valar who is "a servant of the Secret Fire, a Wielder of the Flame of Anor…"


	13. The Sons of Earendil, The Sons of Elrond

The Eye of the Ice Dragon

by Elarin

This chapter is for those of you who have ever wondered why Elrond the Elf seemed to have no gripes about the twelve dwarves who had made their way into the Last Homely House during "The Hobbit."

The Dwarves (& the colors of their cloaks) [from "The Hobbit"]: Thorin Oakenshield (sky blue), Balin (red), Dwalin (green), Fili (blue), Kili (blue), Bombur (pale green), Bifur (yellow) Bofur (yellow), Nori (purple), Dori (purple), Ori (grey), Oin (brown), Gloin (white)

*

Chapter 13 | The Sons of Earendil, The Sons of Elrond

_Please… don't leave me, _she whispered. Her dreams came in fever, this time her forehead burned with fire instead of ice and she coughed and cried tearfully because of the pain that had started to inflict itself upon her body. Elrond looked at her weakly as he chaged the make-shift cloth of melted snow on her forehead. Three days into the journey and her condition worsened. He had chosen to stop on the third night and had started a fire since the winds seemed to have died down. Telperiel lay wearily with Elrond's cloak on top of her. 

From time to time in her sleep she muttered things fitfully in her own strange tongue, sometimes waking up terribly startled and afraid and crying and all Elrond could do was rock her in his arms and sing to her a soft lullaby. _She is becoming as we first found her, _he thought warily, _like a child, lost, afraid, and injured._

Strange injuries had begun appearing on her out of nowhere and with them came the strange misunderstanding between them that saddened Elrond further because she seemed to forget the Sindarin she once knew, and even at times hear Elrond's voice and become startled until after a few moments she recovered and her memory returned.

In all of the long ages he had worked and strived to become a healer at this moment Elrond felt powerless.

Nothing he did seemed to aid her, no soft spell, no medicine, nor potion, not even a song sung.

She was falling away from him little by little and he could not even manage to tell her that he loved her because when he tried the words faltered at the thought that he was taking her to her doom and when he looked at her weak form suffering from a terrible bane he felt almost like a traitor. 

_I cannot go on, _he thought tearfully closing his eyes his lips pressed against her dark hair, _I cannot continue to walk this path to see her die in the end…_

When he finally felt her sleep within his arms he too fell asleep out of weariness and despair soon after her.

*

_You must go on, _said Elros in the darkness of his mind, _because if you do not she shall perish. _Elrond turned to his brother almost angrily feeling his sadness for Telperiel smolder into a wrath in a single moment.

_How can you ask me to do this? _He nearly snapped. Around them was the darkness once more but Elrond could see his brother clearly, a shining figure, now clad in a tunic embellished with the emblem of the White Tree crowned in its stars. Elros smiled softly at his brother and Elrond felt his anger die away soon afterward.

_You are a healer, Elrond, _Elros said softly his expression sober, _I ask you to heal now in a way no other would dare be capable of doing. The pity in your heart would move you to bring happiness and peace to Silme and it tempts you to return her to Imladris where she once had her physical sanity, but the wisdom in your mind tells you that there is something beyond the flesh that she is and her spirit pleads to you, Elrond, and you know what needs to be done…_

_I cannot do this, _Elrond replied remembering the terror that overtook her in her nightmares, remembering her the physical pain she suffered.

_Yes you can, _Elros answered encouragingly, _You can save her, you know how to. Vaire* weaved her threads so that you would find Silme because the Weaver of Fate saw Silme's thread fading from her tapestry and she could not allow that and so she brought your thread to cross hers and slowly, though you may not realize it, as you near the end of your journey her thread grows strong again._

_What am I to do then? When I near the end of this journey? _Elrond demanded still sullen in mood.

_You shall know, _he whispered and then he faded away and the darkness around him fell away and he was greeted by the sun in early morning and cold whispering haunted breezes of the Fell Winter.

*

"Carn Dûm?" muttered Ingmar as they treaded across the forests that morning, "I don't believe I agreed to this." Halbarad and Glorfindel walked ahead of him and Gandalf trailed behind looking around thoughtfully. The woods were thick with snow and they wore heavy wool cloaks and traveled lightly. The skies were cloudy where they walked and for the most part they moved quietly and swiftly hoping not to attract the attention of any stray dark creature that might be wandering about. 

"Wait," Glorfindel said, "I hear something."

"Aye," said Halbarad softly, "Horse hooves." Ingmar clutched the hilt of his sword all the while silently wondering of the Witch King which Gandalf had spoken to them of an earlier evening days before.

"Not likely," said Gandalf as if reading his thoughts, "The Witch King does not travel during day light. At least not usually…"

"That is an encouraging thought." growled Ingmar under his breath, but then he released the hilt seeing that the horses were snow white and that atop them were two raven haired elves, nearly identical, wearing thick blue cloaks. 

_"Glorfindel! Halbarad! Mae govanen!" _smiled one of them. 

_"Suilad, Elladan!" _Glorfindel greeted though his expression was serious and worried. 

"Why have you come here, so far from the marches which you guard, friends?"

Both brothers dismounted and the second one wrinkled his brow at the golden haired elf, "We should be asking you the same question," said Elrohir, "We have been trailing you for over three days now, the Rangers of Amon Sûl pointed us the way you left." He turned toward the grey wizard, "Pray! Would you tell us whyever in all your thought and deed are you heading to Angmar for?"

"Why is our lord not with you?" added Elladan.

Gandalf gave a great and grievous sigh.

"Your father is taking care of other matters involving Telperiel," said Gandalf, "But if you would wish to help him then you are welcome to join our party for there is something we need to take care of in Angmar."

"Is it the _Arano Morgul?*_" asked Elladan warily, "For we both have heard strange voices in the air, even the trees shiver when there is no wind about and a shriek of dark threat grows in our minds."

Glorfindel nodded slowly putting a hand on each of their shoulders.

"Indeed, that is what we are going to face." Glorfindel replied to them, "We are heading into Angmar, the old kingdom of the _Arano Morgul, where orcs fester and vultures feast, and where much of the land is now wasteland and barren, cold and stony. It is toward Carn Dûm that our journey takes us, to the broken tower where the Nazgul dwells."_

"If there are orcs to be slain," said Elrohir, "We shall certainly go." Gandalf looked at each of them some worry flickering in his eyes.

"There are more foul things than just orcs to be slain." He said.

Ingmar shivered as he exchanged glances with Halbarad, _"Now that, _is an encouraging thought."

*

The sunlight was not the only thing that startled Elrond but also the sight of thirteen cloaked and bearded faces looking at him curiously.

Dwarves.

"Are you alright, sir elf?" asked the one wearing a sky blue robe his voice the deep grumble of a storm as he spoke a fluent Sindarin of Thranduil's realm, "For we saw your fire from afar and wondered at it and at treading here this morning we saw the make-shift encampment you made and we wondered if you were in trouble."

Elrond blinked twice uncertain for a moment of how to reply, it had been a long time since he had any dealings with dwarves. 

"I am well," Elrond replied then he glanced down at Telperiel still leaning on his chest her breathing weak and shallow. He felt her forehead for a moment, it still burned, "But my companion is not." He said mostly to himself. The pack of dwarves exchanged glances and suddenly began quietly speaking into their own tongue and it seemed to Elrond that they were holding an argument of some sort… most likely involving him.

Elves and Dwarves for the most part did not get along very well.

But their small argument soon ended and the one wearing the sky blue robe looked at him solemnly, "If your road brings you trouble, and sickness to your friend, then we would invite you to rest a while, for we have shelter not far from this place and if you wish for some food and fire, and rest and medicine for your friend we may have some." Elrond looked at him and nodded slowly.

"I thank you." said Elrond, "Forgive my lack of manners, I am Elrond of Rivendell." He told the Dwarves switching to common tongue since had he given the name of his home in Sindarin it would be to easily found. The dwarf in the sky blue robe nearly jumped at his own thoughts.

"Nay! Forgive our manners." He gave a clumsy bow, that fit for a dwarf, "I am Thorin Oakenshield, Son of the King Under the Mountain, at your service!" The one next ot him wearing a white cloak bowed soon after.

"I am Gloin at your service!"

"Nori," said one in purple.

"Dori!" said the other in purple and both of them bowed, "At your service!" they said simultaneously.

"Fili, Kili, wishing the same!" said the two in blue cloaks.

"Bifur!"

"And Bofur!" bowed the two in yellow.

"And I am Bombur!" said the one in the pale green robe.

"Ori," began the one grey.

"and Oin, at your service!" finished the one in brown.

"And I am Dwalin, Son of Fundin" said the one in green giving a slight bow.

"And I am Balin, Brother of Dwalin." said the one in the red cloak, "Honored to meet you Lord of Rivendell!"

"And I am honored to meet you all Lord Dwarves." Elrond said softly. In his arms, Telperiel stirred slightly.

"What does the mortal lady suffer?" asked Gloin who seemed very much concerned, "Her breath is short."

"Indeed," said Elrond warily, "She is terribly ill and I am having trouble healing her." He admitted sadly. 

"Well then!" said Thorin with some resolve in his tone, "Seems to me that a good meal would make her better! I own a small mansion at the foot of this mountain pass leaning toward the Anduin, although we ourselves are heading Westward we have decided to stop a while, but before making our trip to my home we decided to see who owned the fire at that top of the pass and that led us to you, sir!"

"I pray the stars shine at our meeting then, Master Dwarves, and for your kindness and welcome someday I too shall repay you all equally well." Elrond managed a smile toward the Dwarven king.

Thorin let out a rumbling laughter filled with mirth and the other dwarves also smiled, "You speak like the dwarven kings of old, Lord Elf! Come! Carry your lady with you then, we'll tarry no longer in this cold and barren place. The path is short and easy! And my hidden home warm with its stores still running with wine and warm with bread and fire!"

*

Night fell with a snowy cloak blanketing the land of Angmar. Between the border of the forests and the barren lands Elladan, Elrohir, Glorfindel, and Gandalf acompanied by the two Rangers, Halbarad and Ingmar, stood silently brooding at the sight before them. The winds of the northlands seemed to echo with an old and haunted howl and the shrieks of orcs and goblins beyond it. The trees of Angmar were ancient dead and fell things, and they glowered at their visitors from the opening path into the old kingdom of the Witch King.

"What a cursed place this is." Halbarad said quietly looking ahead of him.

"Oh yes," agreed Ingmar, "And the weather makes it none the better." Gandalf seemed to be the one brooding more than the rest of them.

"As soon as we step into Angmar," said the grey wizard warily, "Our presence shall be noticed."

"That is no surprise," said Ingmar sardonically, "Supplying the fact that our hosts are bound to give us a party of a welcome… and I do mean a _party."_

"I find it amazing how you can still jest as we stand here, _mellon," _said Elrohir looking at the Ranger, "For I think that Gandalf's earlier words were true. There are more than just orcs in these lands." The older Ranger shrugged.

"Elrohir, you know my whims already. Let me at least die laughing." Ingmar said quietly.

"We'd rather not you die at all." replied Glorfindel looking at him, "Pray that we all come out of this and live." Ingmar gave a sigh as he turned and looked at Gandalf.

"Elves," He muttered though his voice was edged with humor, "They don't understand that all of us mortals die someday…"

"We understand," replied Glorfindel with a slight smile catching his jesting mood immediately, "But we'd just rather not have to go through the trouble of burrying you while we're journeying."

Ingmar laughed quietly, "Glorfindel, I'd be a grave man, indeed!" Elrohir raised an eyebrow at both of them.

"I do not believe you can jest about such things."

Ingmar grinned at the younger elf. 

"My dear Elf, if we do not jest about it then we fall into despair and hopelessness." Ingmar told him his eyes twinkling, "I, as a mortal, do not fear death. I certainly don't know what lies beyond it but I've decided early in my life I wouldn't fret about it and I have vowed that I would enjoy each of my days spent in Arda and besides, a jest a day keeps me young, methinks."

Gandalf smiled genuinely at Ingmar and lay a hand on the old Ranger's shoulder.

"I think, Ingmar, that you would make a wonderful teacher to your race."

Glorfindel smiled at them both gaining a strange affection for the mortal ranger he had so recently met. 

"Well," said Ingmar as he looked up seriously, "Shall we steal into their land as thieves in the darkness or shall we knock on the Witch King's tower door and tell him the cram he ordered from Hollin has arrived?"

At this the twin sons of Elrond could not hold back their smiles of amusement.

"Thieves into the night sounds like a worthy plan," said Glorfindel unstrapping his bow, "Though we shall mark your words of the latter plan just in case." He added wryly.

"Oh good!" said Ingmar earning an amused glance from Halbarad.

"Let us be off then!" said Gandalf, and they followed him into the barren lands of Angmar.

*

The _small _mansion of Thorin was nothing near small, though it was no Khazad-Dum* either. Strong carved beams of stone held up the cathedral like ceiling and torches glowed in the wide halls lighting the ways to the rooms throughout. Thorin led Elrond to one of the guest rooms, made with a bed the size of a mortal men and a fire place already burning beside it. He helped Telperiel removed her boots and her cloak and lay her down upon the bed.

"What luck," said Thorin, "That my fore father used to entertain mortals in this home when he did stone work and trade. 'Tis good that we have such rooms here for you. I shall return shortly and bring you some herbs and a meal for your both since I know that you may be busying yourself with her." Elrond nodded.

"Once again, you have my thanks, Master Dwarf." Thorin smiled at him and Elrond was glad that he saw no suspicion in his glance.

"You are welcome, Master Elf." He said and scuttled out of the room. Elrond gave a small sigh as he turned to Telperiel worriedly and stroked her forehead.

"Telperiel," He whispered quietly, _"Tulien anim, nimloth-nin…"*_

Her blind eyes opened sleepily for a moment.

"Elrond…?" She rasped the question.

"I am here." He said wrapping his hand in hers.

"Where are we?" She said her eyes slowly closing and it seemed to Elrond she was comfortable here, "It is warm."

"Aye," said Elrond managing a smile, "It is warm. It is the home of the Dwarves, the mansion of Thorin Oakenshield, Son of the King Under the Mountain." He was satisfied with the amused smile that flickered on her usual pained expression.

"That sounds like a title indeed if I ever heard one." she whispered. Elrond got up and tucked her into the warm wool woven blankets. Sitting next to her on the foot of the bed, "Elrond," she said after a while, "Where are you taking me?" Elrond turned to her and winced inwardly. The Halfelf swallowed to quell the dryness that took his throat.

"I…" He began, but a knock on the doorway interrupted them and Elrond was thankful for the interruption. Gloin walked in with a slight smile on his lips as he carried plates of fine roasted meat, warm bread, and mugs of ale.

"Greetings!" He said, "I've brought you some of the food from our table, I pray you'll like it! We don't know much about elvish cooking…" Elrond smiled at the dwarf thankfully.

"It smells fit enough for me, Master Gloin, for I have not eaten much in over four days." Elrond replied, "This is my companion, Telperiel." He introduced. As soon as Gloin put the plates down at a table he gave a bow.

"At your service, my lady!" 

Telperiel smiled once again from her bed. "Thank you, Master Gloin." She managed her own voice still weak.

"Hmmm…" said Gloin looking at her curiously, "I shall have to go fetch some warm wine to soothe that voice of yours! I shall return shortly!" And he left as soon as he came. Elrond smiled after him, _I suppose he is the healer among them, _thought Elrond.

"Aha!" came Gloin's voice again and he soon returned with another mug, "Here you are!" Elrond took the mug and helped Telperiel drink from it, and then handed her the plate of food. 

"'Tis not the best of remedies we have," said Gloin scratching his head, "But 'tis the best I can offer at this moment."

"'Tis enough, I assure you," said Elrond kindly as he took up his own plate glad for the heat of the dwarven food, "You have done much for us and I shall not forget it." He then looked to the dwarf curiously, "But I was wondering, you said you and your companions were traveling into the west, might I ask why?" Gloin sighed and settled himself down on a wooden cushioned chair at the corner of the room.

"We come from Esgaroth. Erebor* was once the home of King Thorin's father." began Gloin, "But long ago a dragon laid claim to his castle and his trove and now it slumbers beneath the mountain and King Thorin seeks to reclaim it." The dwarf gave a sigh, "Due to the shadow that creeps ever westward many of the dwarves have become a wandering band, Balin and Dwalin, the sons of Fundin, lost their home of Khazad-Dum to Durin's Bane and to the goblins and orcs who have invaded our mountains. Many of the old passes are not safe anymore, dark things wander about and we have no peace."

Elrond knew very well of what he spoke. In the Second Age when Sauron was at the height of his power he had managed to move his forces into Eriador, when the elves and the Numenoreans went against him and forced him back many stray bands of orcs and other foul creatures fled and hid in the mountains. They delighted in torture and death of others and it was because of them that Celebrian had been lost, waylaid on Redhorn Pass by orcs. 

Elrond shuddered with the memory of Elladan carrying her limp form into Imladris, her white gown stained in blood, and her eyes filled with pain and despair… an expression that seemed to be reflected in Telperiel's now as well. _And you could not heal her, _whispered his conscience.

Elrond shut the memory from his mind not wanting to be grieved, not now. 

_One more trouble would make all the difference, _Elrond recalled the conversation he had at Thranduil's table with Gandalf, _I would not yet put another burden upon your heart, my friend._

Gandalf had known what was to come. Elrond swallowed then managed a reply to Gloin.

"Middle Earth is changing." said Elrond quietly to Gloin, "No place is safe anymore." _Not even my heart, _he thought wearily. Gloin nodded slowly beginning to head out.

"That is true, Master Dwarf," Gloin replied, "Thorin would wish to speak with you afterwards if you would join him." Elrond nodded.

"I certainly will," He replied. When he turned to Telperiel he noticed her eyes were distant as she drank from her mug.

"A dragon?" she whispered quietly as if in thought. Elrond sighed. He knew her thoughts and he had a feeling she already knew to where they journeyed. Elrond took her empty plate and her mug from her and leaned forward granting her a gentle kiss on her forehead and he began to sing:

A! Elbereth! Gilthoniel! Silivren penna miriel, o menel aglar melenath na-chaered palan diriel, o galadhremmin Enorath. A! Elbereth! Le linnathon, nef aear, si nef Aearon…

*

"Listen!" Elladan hissed as he notched his arrow. Elrohir and Glorfindel followed in suit as Halbarad and Ingmar clutched the hilt of their swords. Gandalf was also alert looking around the gloaming forest of Angmar warily. The trees were leafless and dark and tall their limbs stretching out like hazardous and threatning knobby hands and the night was dark and cold. As they stepped forward a little more they heard it, drums, orc drums and with it foul voices laughing cruelly and calling out in their own tongue. A red glow flickered ahead of them and fouls shadows danced among it.

"Yrch…" Glorfindel whispered, "Many of them, they are holding some sort of feast ahead of us." Elladan and Elrohir pursed their lips at the thought. They hated orcs after what had happened to their mother many years prior.

"I personally find it distasteful to interrupt orcish merry making." Gandalf said quietly looking ahead cautiously. Ingmar cocked an eyebrow at the wizard.

"Orcs? Merry making? Do those two words even belong in the same sentence?" The old Ranger asked.

"We are on enemy ground," said Halbarad, "It would be best if we found our way around them…" Gandalf looked at them thoughtfully.

"Perhaps there is another way." the wizard said some strange mischief gleaming in his eyes, "I have an idea…"

"Why do I have a feeling I am not going to like this???" asked Ingmar. Glorfindel grinned in spite of their situation.

"No, we are not going to like this… at all."

*

Bhagul laughed out loud as his troupe fought each other for pieces of meat and roasted bird and foud stew of frog that boiled over their fire. They leaped and danced beating on each other, hissing, laughing, hitting their drums in a song that had no apparent melody nor tune. The fire flickered red on his twisted and scarred face and his ruby eyes glittered against the dancing shadows.  He sat upon his stone throne a crown of thorns and dead and twisted sticks on his head meddled with random gold trinkets he had stolen.

Here he had claimed himself king, he was the largest of his race in Angmar, and he was the swiftest with a sword.

Then there was a crunch in the darkness beyond them and they all froze, only the sounds of the flames echoing about them. Bhagul turned to his left curiously already unsheathing his black blade and growling lowly. His underlings did the same.

"A riddle! A riddle!" called out a voice from beyond the darkness, and the voice echoes around them. _What morgul wanders here now to interrupt our fun? _He wondered quietly.

"What riddle?" He called out in his broken common tongue, his voice sounding like the scrape of iron against stone.

"What riddle?" echoed another voice with the first one together.

The other orcs were becoming nervous.

"Who are you?!" demanded Bhagul standing from his throne.

"Who are you!" said now three voice together bouncing from the trees around them. Bhagul growled loudly.

"I am Bhagul, Orc King of Angmar! Show yourself cowards or we shall find you and eat you alive…!" Bhagul announced. The other orcs grinned wildly at the thought.

"I smell man flesh…" hissed Gorga who stood by him.

"A riddle!" called the voice again, "What moves in shadow but is not shadow, and hides in the cloak of night yet does not wear it? What rides like leafless dead autumn wind and of the shadows reeks its prize? "

The orcs all exchanged glances then looked to Bhagul who looked out curiously who took a moment to think it out.

"Nazgul." hissed the orc king.

"Wrong!" came a voice and Bhagul leaped out of the way dodging an elven blade. 

_"Eldha!"_ the orc hissed. The other orcs quickly unsheathed their swords and leaped at it. But then another elf came down upon them holding two swords in his hand and then two others with them. His orcs moved violently against the intruders. Bhagul grasped his sword and let out a loud war cry and leaped up against one of the raven haired elves whose grey eyes flashed in anger. Bhagul moved swiftly parrying the other's attacks. The elf moved fast but he missed Bhagul's cunning. The orc king swing around and slashed him on the arm with a poisonous blade. 

A voice boomed among them, some words Bhagul did not understand.

Suddenly an orb of great light appeared before the orcs forcing them to flee in terror.

A wizard. The Grey One.

Bhagul looked around him he saw that his pack was losing. Bhagul rolled past the elf and threw a dagger at one of his enemies and it stabbed him square on the shoulder and then Bhagul fleed.

_Elves, _he wondered curiously moving swiftly, _Elves in Angmar?_

His lord had to know of this. Something was greatly amiss.

*

"Ingmar!" exclaimed Halbarad as the orcs fleed. The old Ranger pulled the blade from his shoulder with a growl.

"Glorious." Ingmar muttered. Elrohir came up next to him.

"'Tis your luck we brought medicines with us." said Elrohir as he pulled his pack out next to him, "Or you'd be a dead man." Ingmat managed a smile.

"I am getting too old for this," Ingmar said dryly. Halbarad looked at the other in frustration.

"I have been trying to tell you that for the past three years." Halbarad muttered as they began to tend to his wound.

"You do underestand, Gandalf," said Glorfindel, "That the Witch King shall soon know of our presence here?" Gandalf gave a small nod.

"The sooner the better." said Gandalf, _In hopes that he is preoccupied with us so Elrond can complete his quest, he thought. Ingmar looked at him warily._

"At least I'm not the only old fool here." He said partly in jest.

Elladan smiled slightly.

"Indeed!" agreed the elf.

*

AN: hmmm… suspense!

*

NOTES: Arano Morgul – literally 'King of the Witches' in Sindarin

Erebor – the Lonely Mountain, from 'The Hobbit'

Vaire – the Valier (f.) of Fate. She weaves the endless Tapestry of Destiny in the Halls of Mandos.

Khzad-Dum – The Dwarven name for Moria.

"Tulien anim, nimloth-nin." – Sindarin for "Come back to me, my white flower."


	14. The Light of Tilion

The Eye of the Ice Dragon

By Elarin

Author's Note: Hey All! It's been a while, I know, I know, but I'm officially through with High School for my entire life and heading off for college next year so we should all rejoice that after Elarin has happily slept in for one good portion of her summer she's going to indulge you with yet another chapter before she goes off on an icky family camping trip! ^_~ anyways sorry I haven't been inspired until now but here's the continuation…

Arabella, thank you for such nice compliments, I usually don't think that highly about my writing but I'm glad someone does!

*

Chapter 14 | The Light of Tilion

Night had fallen over the forests of Angmar but they were already at its borders staring out to a barren land where no trees grew, but Glorfindel stared out and with his keen sight spied the remnants of the Witch King's tower, it's blackened stones piled in rubble yet some of its lower chambers seemed well intact. Crows glided around it as if waiting for them to become their next bit of carion. Gandalf frowned looking none the bit happy with the situation.

Three full days had passed since their attack at Bhagul's camp and not one sign of the Nazgul lord had greeted them. They heard not the scream of terror in the night nor did the elven eyes of Elrond's sons see the shadow of his horse and cloak.

It was not a good sign.

Glorfindel worried for Elrond now, and he worried deeply. 

The night was clear and Tilion rose to the height of his glory, a silver disc amid the black sky, which stray clouds attempted to veil but simply could not shroud his silver glare.

"Well," said Ingmar cocking an eyebrow, "This is a sight."

"Or lack-thereof." Offered Glorfindel, "We haven't seen any orcs or even wargs."

Ingmar snorted, "I'm no mood to see wargs again."

"Neither in condition," added Elrohir glancing at his bandaged shoulder.

"It's not the orcs I'm worried about," said Gandalf as he replaced his hat and moved forward. They followed behind him cautiously keeping watch, "Wargs, on the other hand, we should be cautious of, there are many in this region of a stranger sort."

"What do you mean _of a stranger sort?_" asked Halbarad looking at Gandalf curiously.

The old wizard stopped for a moment looking up at the starless sky, "They are larger then the ones scattered in Eriador, many of them in Angmar are black as shadow crossed with beasts of Mordor and much more terrible to look upon. They do not travel in packs, but alone."

"Ah," said Ingmar with a wry smile as he looked at Halbarad, "Anti-social creatures, it may be to our advantage."

"Let us hope, Ingmar, they are anti-social enough to avoid us totally." Added Glorfindel as he looked ahead he came up next to Gandalf and lowered his voice, "Mithrandir, if the Witch King is not in Angmar could he be heading then toward Elrond?"

"Pray, Glorfindel, that that is not the case," Gandalf said.

"Glorfindel!" cried out Elladan as he ran up ahead of them, "Orc tracks, and horse hooves!" 

A few meters up they saw the tracks entrenched in frozen snow. Gandalf frowned deeply.

Ingmar raised his eyebrows at it.

"They are heading east."

Glorfindel cursed quickly in Noldorin under his breath. "Eh?" asked Ingmar, "That's no elvish I know."

"Don't worry," muttered Gandalf, "It is not something you want to hear. We must head eastward now. The Witch King has gathered a legion of orcs to him and they are tracking Elrond."

"This is beginning to feel like a wild goose chase," said Ingmar, "What precisely is going on, Gandalf? You haven't explained it to us yet."

"Indeed," said Elrohir, "Although I do not question Gandalf's judgment we too wish to know where our father has gone with Telperiel and what has become of them."

Gandalf looked up at all the expectant eyes looking at him. He growled under his breath, "I make this promise to you," Gandalf said, "All shall be told at the end of this journey, but we must go east for Elrond now needs our aid more than ever." 

*

"Tell me, Master Elf," said Thorin Oakenshield sitting upon his chair by the fireplace, many of the other dwarves had already retired for the evening with satisfied plump bellies filled with food and ale, but Thorin had wished to speak with Elrond and they sat together in the hall, "Where precisely are you headed?" 

Elrond silently wondered whether to tell the dwarf king about the Ice Dragon and of Silme, and of the mithril cave. He recalled Gandalf's words on the matter vividly, _it is the bane of the dwarves they shall not mine there. _

_Then shall they consider me ill-luck in their hall? _Elrond found himself at a loss, it seemed he knew little of Dwarvish custom.

"My companion is ill," said Elrond choosing his words carefully, "And there is only one place where she can be healed, or so I was told by Gandalf the Grey."

Thorin's eyes seemed to brighten at that.

"Tharkun? The Grey Pilgrim of the West! Why good fortune to this meeting then, for it is Gandalf whom we seek!" Elrond smiled slightly at the dwarf king, "But what ill plagues your mortal friend? If it is on Gandalf's words that you wander certainly we should accompany you! There are many dangers to the east."

Elrond thought for a moment. A company of dwarves would certainly be beneficial and if they knew Gandalf all the better. _Perhaps fortune does shine down on me this day, _he thought grimly for he was still worried for Telperiel. 

"There is a cave to the east, north of Mirkwood, with wide halls and deep chasms and a great lake at its center." Elrond began to weave his tale as best he could without revealing too much, "No warg, nor orc dwell within its walls, and no chisel of the dwarves has ever carved it."

Thorin seemed quite interested now. "Oh?" He asked.

"It is abandoned, untouched, and it is there that I must bring her."

Thorin's thick brows furrowed and his gaze seemed distant. For a long moment he sat there in silence and Elrond realized that the dwarf king _knew_. Suddenly he slipped out of his chair and stood before Elrond his gaze grim and his lips frowning. The fire danced upon his old face making it seem as if for a moment he himself were made of stone so grave was the demanor which he carried.

_"Gulu-ban aimenu, Elzurun!" _Thorin announced in his deep tongue. Elrond looked at the dwarf lord patiently awaiting a translation. Thorin cleared his throat, "In the tongue of my people that means, _'there is a dark bane upon you, elf lord.' _For none among my folk, or those of my father's father, and his father's father, who have delved into that hall has ever returned."

Elrond was also silent for a long moment but then spoke in words so soft that they did not echo in Thorin's mansion, "Will you then refrain your aid to me if I am under this bane, Thorin Oakenshield?"

The dwarf king sat down once more and leaned back releasing a sigh that sounded more like a growl. His bright eyes reflecting the flame of the hearth held Elrond's for a moment.

"No," Thorin said wearily, "I shall not refrain to aid you for I have already offered that service to you and the word of a dwarf is as solid as the stones of _Barazinbar_. I shall go with you, as shall my company, in the name of my forefathers, so long as you travel eastward and your bane shall be mine and I will aid you in shedding it," but his tone became dark, "If it comes to that."

Elrond took in his oath with certain foreboding but nodded at him in acknowledgement, "Under the honor of my forefathers I shall not forget the aid you have offered me."

"Indeed!" laughed Thorin humorlessly and he leaned closer to Elrond, "If you and your maiden come out of it alive."

*

In the forests under the light of the stars a wraith rode on moved only by his own desperation and blackened rage. Over the mountain pass to the east he rode, the hooves of his great dark horse clamoring upon the frozen paths. His robes flew about him as black smoke against the wind of his ride. 

He stopped suddenly, on a cliff-edge, only to look down at the valley below seeing nothing yet seeing everything through the power of his master's eye…

*

I cannot go back… he sees me… I see him… 

A woman appeared before her robed in white her long dark hair set loose in waves about her and her silver eyes gilded in the glitter of tears.

_Silme! _She shrieked, her cry was only filled terror.

_Naneth… _a whisper, a faded memory, a dream that had long since been forgotten.

Then another figure stood before her, tall and menacing the face of an elf with black locks, and shadowed robed, but his eyes… his eyes were the color of blood. He laughed in cruel jest.

_Silme! Silme! _Her voice again in her head and it gradually vanished to a silent whisper, _ien-nin…_

He came again before her, a faceless shadow, he stood before her and put out his hand. She writhed back against the woman's breast crying, unsure of what to make of the man who stood before. _I cannot go back to him… _The woman in white pulled her away from her embrace and she wept shrinking back to the corner of the stony walls. She stood between them, _You cannot take her, I shall not let you…_

Her voice, she knew that voice.

_She is no longer yours to keep, _hissed the other.

_And neither is she yours! _The woman grasped any thing she could find about her – a vase, a chair, books. She flung them at him in desperation. But all these things he threw aside as if they were nothing to him and he grasped her hand. She cried out, screaming: _Anandor! Voronwe! Edheltan!_

But they were already dead, their blood upon the steps of their hall.

_Naneth… _she too would die that day.

_Silme…!_

_I won't go back…_

*

"Telperiel!" Elrond called out. At this point it seemed as if she had lost all her stars. He grasped her arms to hold her down some of the other dwarves had come to aid him though they were unsure of what had befallen her.

When she had finally stopped she laid back quivering, cold sweat covering her face and hair her eyes glazed over by some nightmare. The dwarves stood back some of them looking up at Elrond, unsure of what to make of the scene. Elrond's focus was not drawn to them at the moment, though, he was focused only on Telperiel and he was grieved by what he saw.

_She is so frail, _Elrond thought. He turned to toward the dwarves, "Please," Elrond said feeling his own voice falter, "Leave me for a moment to care for her." They complied quickly understanding that whatever was going on was a grave matter and they walked away closing the doors softly. Telperiel turned her head aside on the pillow closing her eyes tears falling from them. 

[_I cannot go on this path…_] A moment of surprise came over Elrond before he realized she was speaking the Numenorean tongue and he understood it.

"You must," He told her in return somehow the words falling out of his mouth, "You must."

Elrond shivered when she turned her gaze upon him. It was no longer the look of the girl he had found in the caves nor the gaze of the young woman he had raised in Rivendell. It was the face of a ghost who understood what she had been and also knew what was to come.

"Elrond," She said softly and she stretched out her hand to him. Her voice shook with a great sadness as she spoke to him, "If I go I'll die."

Elrond closed his eyes as he grasped her hand sadly and his reply came only in a whisper.

"I know." He smoothed back her hair as he looked upon her again and he felt guilt leave a lump in his throat, "But I have no other choice and neither do you. For now a bane and a doom is laid upon the both of us and we must follow that road until the end."

A rush of pain went through her and she curled up into a ball, "He knows where we are, Elrond, he will follow us until the end of that road." She choked out in pain, "And all that I have ever known will come back to me and how will it be between us if all I have ever known was sorrow?"

Elrond had not released her grasp.

"Let him come, if he wills it," Elrond said, "And if sorrow goes with you then I will help you bear the burden." She turned towards him again shuddering and paling.

"And if it should claim your life?"  
Elrond smiled sadly,

"Then I shall come to see my lady once more upon the shored of Valinor."

"And where shall I go?" She asked him her voice fading off.

"Where hope shall lead you."

*

The morning was shrouded in clouds and snow fell hard.

"Cursed weather," said Balin grimly casting his hood closer about himself. Elrond also looked out at the snowfall with a frown. Telperiel stayed close to him though her thoughts strayed elsewhere and it seemed her attention was not among them at the moment. Elrond looked at her and clasped her hand in support and after a few moments his grip was returned. 

"That is may be, indeed." Said Thorin. It seemed to Elrond that the dwarves had already argued amongst each other the night before what was to come and many of them had seemed grim of mood in the early morn and Elrond cared little if they placed the blame upon him over what had come about.

His only concern was Telperiel and his emotions were deeply in conflict.

Horses would be no use in so deep a snowfall and the dwarves were forced to wade through it. Elrond picked up Telperiel and carried her, she was no burden to him and he had any easy time navigating the white covered vale. After a few hours Thorin called for them to stop, even though they had not yet reached the borders of northern Mirkwood.

"Dwarves, unfortunately, do not always move well through so much snow." Thorin announced taking a deep breath, "We must rethink our path clearly, Master Elf, there are many orcs that stray in the northern realms."

"I am well aware of that," announced Elrond, "But I cannot go directly through Mirkwood and then turn north."

"Do you not know the elf king there?" asked Kili.

"I do," He replied, "But it is a matter that time is not on my side," He glanced down at Telperiel then westward." _He knows where we are, _"And we have other things chasing us besides orcs."

The dwarves perked up at that. "Such as?" asked Thorin. If Elrond had learned anything about dwarves is that they liked frankness.

"A Nazgul." Elrond told him, "A Wraith from Angmar."

"Sauron's servant!" exclaimed Fili his eyes widening. A cold wind whipped at them. 

"Speak not that name!" cried out Thorin above the wind. He squinted his eyes against the heavy snow fall, "This storm is wrothful, Elf Lord, we shall need shelter for the night!"

"And I shall find it for you, Lord Dwarf, when the night falls!" Elrond told him. The dwarf-king growled at his answer.

"Very well! But I keep you to your word!"

"And I keep you to yours!" Elrond replied, "We must go on!"

*

AN: well that's it till next chapter… which will involve the advice of a certain lady of light… that's right! Galadriel gets Elrond back on his feet!

Some Notes:

Naneth: "mother"

Ien-nin: "my daughter"


End file.
